


across over under through

by fangirl_squee, madelinestarr



Series: the bird, the book, the shield [4]
Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hella-Typical Violence, M/M, Multi, letters sent and unsent, throndir is a Very Good Boy And Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/pseuds/madelinestarr
Summary: Hella remembers being a sword, Lem fails to find old books, and Fero tries his hand at being a diplomat. Also, there are letters and longing.





	across over under through

**Author's Note:**

> strap in my dudes, this ones a long one!
> 
> thanks, as always, to lexie, for betaing this enormous thing.

Packing a bag for a long trip had been much easier before, Hella reasoned to herself as she surveyed her belongings. Of course, normally things stayed in her bag after she’d packed them. Fero kept sneaking things out of her packs: a sleep shirt, a sword sharpener, even some rations.

 

“Fero!” admonished Hella, catching his hand as he reached into her pack again.

 

Hella couldn’t help but laugh as Fero turned into a cat, his paw slipping out of her grip. He picked up her shirt in his mouth, bringing it to the other items he’d pulled from her pack and curling around his small tower of her goods. He batted at her hands, claws withdrawn, as she tried to pull her shirt out from underneath him, before giving up. She petted him, and Fero purred, rubbing his head against her hand.

 

“C’mon, Fero. You know I have to leave by sunrise.” 

 

Hella picked up his small cat body, setting him in Lem’s lap. Fero glared at her before turning to look up at Lem, putting his two small front paws on Lem’s arm.

 

Lem was transcribing one of the old books that they’d found at the run-down tower on their first journey as a trio. Lem absent mindedly began petting Fero, continuing to write with his free hand. Fero purred, louder this time. Lem snorted, pausing in his work to look down at Fero. Fero blinked slowly up at him.

 

“Hopefully when you return Sabrina will bake those oatmeal cookies that I’m fond of,” Lem murmured.

 

Fero turned back into a halfling, sitting so that his legs were hanging off the side of the chair. Fero leant back and forth, blocking Lem’s view of the document. Lem made an annoyed sound, trying to reach his arms around Fero to continue with his transcription. 

 

“If she does, I will eat half of them,” said Fero, swinging his legs back and forth.

 

“You don’t even need to eat,” said Lem.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “but they taste  _ really  _ good.”

 

Hella turned to laugh at them, leaving her sleep shirt in the pile as she packed her rations and whetstone in her bag.  

 

Packing for a long trip was easy. It was the wanting to leave part that was a lot harder than she remembered.

 

\----

 

Hella slept in the middle that night. 

 

Ordinarily she always took the side closest to the door, old mercenary training itching at her to have the best line of sight on potential danger, but tonight she pushed it aside. It was a nice feeling, having both sides warmed by their bodies, even if they did wake a few times when one of them rolled on top of her. They always sleepily kissed an apology into her skin.

 

Even though she’d been woken up by them during the night, Hella woke feeling well-rested. She was, as always, the first awake. The sun was almost about to rise, and soon she would have to head out. She wriggled carefully out from between Lem and Fero and began trying the gather her things as quietly as possible.

 

She was half-way through strapping on her armour, absorbed in the methodic process of it, when there was a sudden rustle of sheets from the bed. She looked over to see Fero, his body half-across the still-sleeping Lem.

 

“You  _ were _ going to say goodbye, right?” Fero asked, voice quiet.

 

Hella stopped what she was doing, setting an arm-brace carefully down on the table and moving to sit down on the side of the bed. She could feel the warmth of Lem’s leg through the blanket. She put a hand on Fero’s face, running her thumb across his cheek, and he leant into her touch.

 

“Of course I was,” said Hella softly. “I would have done that when I was ready to go.”

 

Fero reached out and knocked on her chest plate. “You  _ look  _ pretty ready to go.”

 

“That’s just because you don’t know anything about armour.”

 

“I know that you don’t put it on if you’re just going to hang out for a while,” said Fero.

 

“I still have a little time,” said Hella.

 

She covered his fist with her hand, bending her head to kiss the knuckles softly. Fero stilled, pressing his lips together.

 

“I wish the council would let us go with you,” said Fero.

 

“It will be safer for you both here,” said Hella.

 

“We’re safer with  _ you _ ,” said Fero.

 

Hella’s breath caught in her throat. “Fero…”

 

“It’s  _ true _ !”

 

“What is?” said Lem, blinking sleepily at them both.

 

“That I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now,” said Hella.

 

Fero’s annoyed noise was immediately silenced by Hella’s kiss. She felt the light pressure as he put his hand on her chest plate, seeking more leverage. She kissed Fero’s hand again before leaning over to Lem and kissing him, slowly.

 

Lem smiled at her, still half-asleep. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning and goodbye,” said Hella.

 

Lem’s face fell. “Ah. Yes. I suppose so.”

 

Hella stood, moving to finish putting on her bracer. She could feel Lem and Fero watching her, strangely quiet, from the bed. She swung her pack onto her shoulder and put her hand on her sword hilt as she scanned the room one last time for anything she might have forgotten. The only things that was still in the room that she wished she could take with her were sitting on the bed, looking over at her with forlorn expressions.

 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” said Hella, trying to keep her voice light. “The two of you take care of each other.”

 

Lem and Fero both nodded.

 

“Be safe,” said Lem.

 

Hella huffed a laugh. “Being safe isn’t really in my job description.”

 

She closed the door softly behind her and headed out into the cold morning air. 

 

“Hella!”

 

Hella looked up. Fero was hanging half out of their window, Lem’s hands around his waist.

 

“Hella,” said Fero, “ _ be safe _ .”

 

“Please!” echoed Lem.

 

“Okay!” said Hella. Her throat felt tight. “You too!”

 

Hella took a deep breath, trying to memorise how they both looked in the early morning light. It was very hard to turn around and continue on her way to the council chambers. By the time she got there her neck felt stiff from how she had tensed it, trying to stop herself from turning to look back.

 

She rubbed at her neck as she approached the council chambers, raising her hand in greeting to Hadrian and Sabrina, waiting there with the horses.

 

“You’re late,” said Hadrian, grinning at her. “Trouble getting out of bed?”

 

“I am not late,” said Hella, gesturing to the sky with one hand. “It’s sunrise, isn’t it? And here I am.”

 

“Yes, but we actually beat you here for once,” said Hadrian.

 

“I didn’t realise we were in a race,” said Hella.

 

Sabrina put her hand on both their arms. “Please, it’s too early in the morning for both of your nonsense.”

 

“I thought you liked my nonsense,” said Hadrian.

 

The corners of Sabrina’s mouth twitched. “I do, but you know I prefer to wait until I’m fully awake for it. I find it’s more enjoyable for us both that way.”

 

Hella ducked her head to hide her grin at Hadrian’s blush. Sabrina was always a fun travel companion.

 

The sound of the carriages arriving interrupted them, the clattering of their wheels echoing in the empty street. Hadrian helped Sabrina into the carriage with her fellow diplomats before mounting his horse. 

 

Hella swung herself up into the saddle, taking one last look behind her at the city. The sun was rising, making the streets shine gold as people began to go about their day just as, across town, Lem and Fero would be beginning their days. Hella felt glad she had at least gotten to see part of it.

 

The train of supply carts and carriages began to move, and so Hella began her journey out of the city.

 

The trip to the outskirts of Twinbrooke was set to be long, unadventurous, and too full of trees and birds for Hella’s liking. She prefered a clean line of sight for potential threats. She tried to keep her focus on their surroundings, protecting the party was why she and Hadrian were there after all, but her mind wandered. Passing an old grouping of trees as they passed out of sight of Velas made her think of Lem’s excited chatter at their historical significance. The sharp cry of a bird nearby reminded her of Fero, swooping down to greet her as she walked about the city.

 

Hella shook herself, hand going to her sword hilt.  _ Focus _ .

 

Sabrina and Hadrian helped to centre her, somewhat. Sabrina leant out of the window of her carriage, chattering with Hadrian about inter-council drama. She sometimes looked towards Hella for her thoughts about such things, trying to draw her into the conversation. For Sabrina’s sake, Hella tried to form more an opinion that wasn’t just ‘kill them.’ Sabrina tended to frown upon that as an option, preferring more  _ diplomatic _ solutions.

 

Hella had missed travelling with Sabrina and Hadrian, that was true, but it felt different than their travel had before. Hella didn’t know much about music, but she felt as though their timing was off. When Sabrina would point out a landmark, Hella kept half-expecting the steady rhythm of history, rather than an explanation of its diplomatic importance. She tried to pay attention anyway. After all, Lem would probably find it interesting.

 

It was late in the day when they began to set up camp for the night, barely managing to get the last of the tents set up before the sun had set.

 

“You’ll be with me and Hadrian,” said Sabrina.

 

Hella grinned. “Just like old times.”

 

Hella took the first watch. She could see the shadowy figures of people moving around in the their tents, their lamps being turned off one by one as they turned in for the night. A blanket of quiet fell over the camp.

 

Outside of the city, the stars shone more clearly, and the moon seemed to glow bright. It was the same moon that shone down over Velas, and Hella wondered if Lem and Fero were looking up at it now too, from the little window of their room.

 

Hadrian took the second shift for the watch, as was his custom over long journeys. Hella walked slowly towards the tent, feeling more tired the closer she got to her bedroll. The night air felt a lot colder when you only had yourself to warm against it.

 

She sighed as she entered the tent, trying to be quiet as she removed her armor. She needn’t have bothered, Sabrina was still awake, reading papers in the lamplight. As Sabrina saw her enter, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and got up to move towards Hella’s bedroll. 

 

“Hey,” said Sabrina, her voice soft, “You wanna share a blanket? I’m freezing.”

 

Hella huffed a small laugh. “Is  _ that  _ what you diplomats are calling it these days?”

 

Sabrina giggled. “No, I’m serious, for old time’s sakes. I know you hate my cold feet as much as I do.” 

 

Hella laughed again, and motioned for Sabrina to scoot in close. 

 

“I think I’ll wait until you’ve got your armour off,” said Sabrina wryly, “Plate armour isn’t exactly the best material for warming others.” Sabrina hesitated, then added, “Do you want a hand with-”

 

“No,” said Hella quickly, “I can get it off myself. You just get settled.”

 

Sabrina gave her an odd look. “Sure.”

 

The campsite was quiet, the sound of the campfire and the low wind broken up by the scraping of metal on metal and Hella removed her armour. A different sort of quiet than the one in which she’d put her armour on that morning.

 

“You and Hadrian are a lot alike, you know,” said Sabrina quietly.

 

Hella raised her eyebrows at her. Sabrina had her legs up, arms resting on her knees as she watched Hella.

 

“You both always think you have to carry everything yourself,” said Sabrina.

 

“Sometimes it’s easier that way,” said Hella.

 

Sabrina sighed. “No, it isn’t. You’ve just told yourselves that so many times over the years that it seems as certain as the sun in the sky.”

 

Hella said nothing as she settled down beside Sabrina. Sabrina carefully positioned their blankets so that they were both covered, resting her head on Hella’s shoulder. It wasn’t as warm as her own bed back in Velas would have been, but it was warm enough that Hella soon fell asleep.

 

When Hella woke at dawn, Hadrian had taken Sabrina’s place at her side. Hella blinked over at him, her half-asleep mind taking a moment to remember where she was in the world, and when. She carefully got up from where she had wrapped herself around Hadrian in sleep, trying not to wake him.

 

Hella left the tent, heading towards the campfire and morning rations. Sabrina was already there, Hadrian’s cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She was watching the campfire, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. She looked up as Hella approached, gesturing to the pot on over the fire.

 

Hella poured herself a cup, warming her hands. She cleared her throat and Sabrina looked over at her.

 

“Thank you for the… warmth last night, it’s… I appreciate it.”

 

Sabrina smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Is that what Ordenans call compassion? Then you’re welcome. For the ‘warmth.’”

  
  


_ (scrawled on fresh parchment, the letters untidy due to the author riding at the time of writing) _

 

_ Lem and Fero, _

 

_ Hadrian and Sabrina send their regards. Sabrina tells me that she’ll keep making those oatmeal cookies for you when we get home. We have yet to fight anybody, and I feel as though my sword and I are of the same mind in that we’re glad for some rest, but worried that it’s a false sense of security. It hums, sometimes, when the moon is at it’s fullest (I do not notice any particular melody, but maybe you would, Lem). I hope your writings of Velasian life are safe and interesting you, Lem. Fero, I hope you are keeping an eye out for him.  _

 

__ _ Your sword and shield, _

__ _ Hella Varal _

 

_ PS: Lem, do you know anything about an old castle near Rosemerrow? Sabrina has told me that it was once a manor that old families would purchase for weeks at a time and spend holidays in. A lot of pre-Erasure treaties were signed there. Maybe we can visit one day and you’ll find old books? _

  
  


Lem tried to continue his usual routine after Hella left on her journey, but it was difficult. Part of that was Fero, who, when he thought Lem had looked away, would take on a still, pinched expression. Any attempt by Lem to draw out the reason why was met with bright, false laughter and a swift change of subject by Fero.

 

The other reason was himself. He kept thinking something in the room had been misplaced, only to realise that it was because the spot that Hella’s armour was usually piled in was empty, as was her spot in the bed. It felt strange to be the first awake.

 

Lem wished that there was something to distract him, something that he could really put his focus towards until Hella got back. Three days after Hella had departed, he got his wish. 

 

Lem was summoned by the Velasian council. Fero had been told not to join him, which Lem supposed was in case he turned into something outrageous, like a cougar. Fero, of course, went with him anyway, in the form of a small mouse, hiding himself away in one of Lem’s jacket pockets. He would have told Fero anything that happened anyway, so Lem reasoned that it was okay for him to sneak Fero in.

 

Fantasmo was waiting outside the chamber, regarding Lem with a critical eye as he approached. 

 

“I have been told by the council that you are collecting a history of modern Velas.”

 

Lem nodded, still unsure about how to act around the elf. Fantasmo’s face didn’t really give anything away.

 

“Well,” said Fantasmo, somehow managing to make the word sound like a long-suffering sigh, “it sounds dull, and I do not wish to hear about it on our journey.”

 

“Our journey?” Lem asked, confused.

 

“You will find out soon enough, King,” and Fantasmo.

 

He turned forward, finished with the conversation altogether, sweeping his cape as he entered the council chamber. Lem took a deep breath, following Fantasmo into the chamber. Fantasmo was already seated, along with a human woman that Lem didn’t recognise.

 

One of them nodded to him, indicating for Lem to sit down next to Fantasmo, and Lem did, folding his hands in his lap to keep himself from fidgeting.

 

“Lem King, thank you for coming,” said the woman, her voice brisk, “My name is Astrid Forge, and you already know The Great Fantasmo.”

 

“Um, nice to meet you?” said Lem.

 

“I’m sure it is,” said Astrid, “I’m a busy woman so I’ll get straight to business. The Great Fantasmo has been assisting us in collecting and translating a series of tomes that were found underneath the city-”

 

“ _ Underneath _ the city? Underneath  _ Velas _ ?” said Lem.

 

“Yes,” said Astrid, “and we have reason to believe the tomes collected from… the area they were found were part of a larger collection that may have been split up during the Erasure. The Great Fantasmo believes that he may have discovered their location.”

 

“That’s fascinating,” said Lem. “What sort of information do the books contain?”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” said Astrid.

 

“Arcane magics,” said Fantasmo, at the same time.

 

“Really,” said Lem, leaning forward, “what kind of-”

 

“You were not called here today for an academic discussion,” said Astrid.

 

“Oh,” said Lem, trying not to feel too disappointed.

 

“The council has reviewed your recent work, and we are impressed by your level of detail and dedication to the city. Add to that the fact that when we asked The Great Fantasmo to travel to collect the missing tomes that he requested that you accompany him, well,” said Astrid, “It seems as though you are the perfect man for the job.”

 

Lem blinked, looking at Fantasmo. “You have?”

 

“I have,” said Fantasmo.

 

“I-” Fero began frantically wriggling in Lem’s pocket. “I, um, could I ask my… I have a travelling companion, so I’d like to see what he thinks first.”

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Astrid.

 

“Oh, well, it seems sort of rude to commit to a journey without telling him first,” said Lem.

 

Fantasmo snorted.

 

“I feel there has been a misunderstanding,” said Astrid, “There will be no other companions with you on this journey. It is the belief of the Velasian city council that the tomes you are to collect are of great value, and as such, knowledge of their existence is to be kept to as few people as possible.”

 

“But-”

 

Astrid held up her hand. “No. The Great Fantasmo, perhaps you would like to offer some guidance? As this  _ is _ your choice of travel companion.”

 

Fantasmo sighed heavily. “Lem King, with this journey we will bring back great knowledge, knowledge that as we speak is lost to us. Is it not our job, as both learned academics and adventurers, to bring back that knowledge to the world?”

 

“Yes,” said Lem, “but I-”

 

“Then is it not worth a few lost moments with a  _ friend _ in order to ensure the secrecy and safety of such a quest?”

 

“I suppose,” said Lem.

 

Fero began trying to wriggle out of his pocket. Lem put his hand over the it, trying to cover Fero’s movements.

 

“Excellent,” said Fantasmo, “then it’s agreed.”

 

Astrid nodded. “Good. You ride out tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow? But, wait a moment, I-”

 

Astrid stood, reaching over to shake Fantasmo’s hand, and then Lem’s. “The Velasian city council thanks you for your enthusiastic service. I believe you have already organised the supplies that you will require?”

 

Fantasmo nodded, waving a hand dismissively. “Yes, everything has already been procured.”

 

There was a knock at the door and another woman poked her head around the door. “Councilwoman Forge? The merchant guild are here.”

 

“Ah,” said Astrid, “If you gentlemen will excuse me, my next meeting is here.”

 

Fantasmo stood, and Lem hurriedly copied him, still keeping his hand over his pocket. 

 

Fantasmo turned to leave, then turned back. “The council wanted to send some  _ city guard _ with me, as though some brute with a sword would know the first thing about document collection. I… It would be most helpful to me if you would accompany me, Lem. Your skills are more than adequate.”

 

“I, um, thank you?” said Lem.

 

“This is a great thing we will do,” said Fantasmo, “bringing this knowledge back into the world not just for us, but for all peoples.” 

 

Lem’s head spun with the possibilities. “Yes, okay, yes. I’ll come with you.”

 

Fantasmo nodded. “I will see you tomorrow.”

 

Lem managed to keep Fero in his pocket until Fantasmo had left, and then Fero wriggled through Lem’s fingers, transforming back into a halfling as he fell to the ground.

 

“Fero,” said Lem brightly, “can you believe that?”

 

“No,” said Fero, looking up at Lem from his position on the floor. “I can’t.”

 

“I know! A discovery like that under our very feet and we didn’t even know! And then,” continued Lem, “being asked to collaborate in an official capacity! Well!”

 

“Not  _ that _ official,” said Fero, “since you can’t tell anyone.”

 

“Still,” said Lem.

 

His mind wandered through every story he’d ever heard of about secret caverns filled with untold treasures. This was better than all of those, this was  _ knowledge _ , knowledge that could be restored to the world, and he would be a part of helping that to happen. He’d been  _ requested _ , even. They hadn’t gone to the New Archives. They’d gone to him, Lem King. Lem couldn’t have stopped smiling even if he tried.

 

“Look,” sighed Fero, “can we just go home?” 

 

Fero looked tired. Lem supposed he had been a mouse for rather a long time, and sometimes transforming like that could take more out of Fero than Fero would like to admit.

 

“Of course,” said Lem.

 

Lem crouched down so that Fero could climb onto his back, and after a slight hesitation Fero climbed on, his hands curling into the fabric of Lem’s shirt. Fero pressed his face into the back of Lem’s neck. Lem frowned, making a mental note to stop somewhere on the way back to get some kind of vegetables. Fero didn’t really  _ need _ to eat, but if he was that tired it  _ would _ make him feel better.

 

It was hard to keep up a conversation with Fero, especially when he was quiet like this, but Lem couldn’t help but talk, buoyed by his imaginings of what he might find on his journey. Lem felt lighter than air as they made their way, first through the marketplace, and then back to their room.

 

“And The Great Fantasmo asked for me  _ specifically _ !” Lem said excitedly, as they ate dinner that night. 

 

“You know he gave  _ himself  _ the title Great, right?” Fero muttered, sullenly moving around the small amount of greens in his bowl, “What kind of guy gives himself  _ that _ as a name?”

 

“Oh, of course he did, but my last name is King. Am I really one to judge?” Lem said, unfazed by Fero’s mood. 

 

“Yeah, but you were  _ given _ that name,” said Fero, still giving his salad a sour look, “that’s how names are  _ supposed _ to work. You can’t just…” he wrinkled his nose, gesturing with his fork, “do  _ that _ .”

 

“I suppose, but-” Lem shook himself, “that’s not the point. The point is, he requested my services  _ specifically _ and the council thought it was  _ a good idea _ !” Lem bounced in his chair a little in excitement. “They’d heard about my work! They were impressed with the level of detail in my work!”

 

Fero nodded, stabbing angrily at a leaf. The fork made a scraping sound against the bowl. Lem winced.

 

“Come now, Fero. It’ll only be a month or so. And then I’ll be back again, and I’ll have so much more to tell you about words, and languages, and plant life!” said Lem, trying for comforting but getting swept up in his excitement once more.

 

“That’s just a bunch of old stuff, who cares! There’s so much happening  _ now!”  _ Fero put his bowl down, a bit too harshly for either of their tastes.

 

Lem eyed Fero carefully. It was his last night in town, and he wanted to spend it quietly with his best friend. 

 

“Yes, I know, I know. But old things can be good, sometimes. It can show us how we don’t have to make mistakes again and again. If we learn what we’ve already done, we can already start on making things better,” said Lem.

 

“But they don’t want to use it for that!” said Fero.

 

“You don’t know that,” said Lem.

 

“Of course I do,” said Fero, “They never want to use it for that, they only ever want to use it to idealise the past, to keep people thinking that the past stuff was so great.”

 

“But some of it  _ was _ great,” said Lem. Fero made a dismissive noise, but Lem barreled on before Fero could interrupt. “And even when it wasn’t, it’s amazing to have a bunch of history that is so old and constantly being uncovered. And to have a chance to uncover more of it now, how could I pass that opportunity by?”

 

“But you’re already doing something now!” said Fero, “What about your modern history?”

 

“That will still be here when I get back,” said Lem, “That’s the thing about modern history, I suppose. It’s always around.”

 

“I guess that means it’s not as  _ valuable _ as your precious  _ ancient tomes _ ,” said Fero.

 

“Fero, that’s not fair, you know I-”

 

“No,” said Fero, “I  _ don’t  _ know. What I  _ do  _ know is that you’ll drop everything to go look at some dumb old books-”

 

“ _ Fero- _ ”

 

“Some  _ dumb old books _ ,” repeated Fero, louder, “even if it means you have to abandon something that _ you said _ was important!”

 

It suddenly occurred to Lem that Fero didn’t actually care that much about his modern history. Well, he did, but not enough for his voice to crack and to look at Lem like he was now, damp-eyed and trembling.

 

“Fero…” said Lem, softly.

 

Fero stood up, walking to the window. “I’ll leave you alone to pack for your trip. I wouldn’t want to be a modern influence.”

 

With that, Fero turned into a flock of birds and flew out into the night.

 

“Fero, wait-!”

 

But Fero  _ didn’t  _ wait. And he didn’t come back.

 

Despite the cold, Lem left the window open that night. He packed his bag, and went to bed. When sleep didn’t come, he got up, wrapping himself in the blanket. He tried to work on his translation, but that was of no use either. He couldn’t get more than two words into it before his gaze drifted to the window.

 

Soon it would be sunrise, and he’d have to leave. Lem put down his quill and put his face in his hands.

 

He’d have to  _ leave, _ without saying a proper goodbye to Fero, or making sure he was okay, and that mixed itself with the worry that came with Fero being out in the Velasian darkness alone all night, making Lem’s stomach churn.

 

Lem wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, when there was a fluttering, scratching sound. He looked up to see a small bird sitting on the windowsill.

 

“Fero?” said Lem hopefully. His voice was hoarse.

 

The bird tilted its head to one side for a moment, and then became a tired looking halfling. Lem stood up, blanket falling off his shoulders as he moved to the window and picked Fero up, hugging him tightly. After a moment, Fero’s arms slid around Lem’s shoulders.

 

“I thought maybe you would have already gone,” mumbled Fero.

 

“Without saying goodbye?” said Lem.

 

Lem relaxed his arms a little so that he could look down at Fero. Fero had his hands on Lem’s chest, fiddling with the buttons on Lem’s shirt.

 

“I dunno. You seemed pretty excited to leave last night.”

 

“I’m excited to go on this journey, yes, but I’m not excited to  _ leave _ . I’ll- It will be odd, travelling somewhere without you, and I wish…” Lem trailed off, blushing.

 

Fero looked up at him. “You wish?”

 

“I wish you could come with me,” said Lem.

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” said Fero, in a rush of air.

 

Fero wriggled, trying to move, and then settled on kissing Lem’s chin instead. Lem, realising what Fero was trying to do, shifted his arms so that their faces were level, and kissed Fero. Fero hands changed from fidgeting with Lem’s shirt buttons to undoing them, so that he could touch Lem’s chest.

 

“Go sit down,” said Fero, in between kisses, “This is easier when you’re sitting down.”

 

It was. Despite the window still being open, the room began to feel significantly less cold.

 

“Do you think we have time to-”

 

The was a sharp knock at the door.

 

“I guess not,” finished Fero.

 

Lem chuckled. “We’ll just have to wait until I get back, I suppose.”

 

Fero bit his lip. “So you will, I mean, you are going to come back?”

 

“Oh  _ Fero _ ,” said Lem. He put a hand on either side of Fero’s face, pushing their foreheads together. “Of course I am. I’ll always come back to you, you know that, right?”

 

Fero gave him a shaky smile. “I guess I do now.”

 

There was another sharp knock at the door. 

 

“Lem King,” said Fantasmo, his voice slightly muffled by the door, “we must leave if we are to make good time today.”

 

Lem turned towards the door. “I know, I’m coming, I just have to do this one very important thing and I’ll be right out.”

 

Fero frowned up at him. “What very important-” 

 

Lem cut him off with a deep kiss. Fero gave a small whine, pulling at Lem’s shirt. When they broke apart they were both breathing heavily.

 

“That,” said Lem. “That was very important.  _ You _ are very important.” Lem kissed Fero on the top of his head. “ _ Please _ take care while I’m away.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, his face flushed, “you too. Come back safe.”

 

“I will,” said Lem. “I  _ promise _ I will.”

  
  


_ (written on the back of an old shopping list) _

 

_ Hella, _

 

_ I can’t really go into too much detail (at least, not on paper), but I have been asked _ by the city of Velas (!!) _ to assist The Great Fantasmo in his search for some ancient tomes. It’s an honor, and as you can well imagine I’m very excited, but I worry for Fero. I hope the diplomatic talks go swiftly and that you are back home soon, to watch over him for me. _

 

_ This is my first journey without him in a long time. It feels strange. Do you feel strange, without us? _

 

_ yours, _

_ Lem _

  
  


For the first time in two years,  Fero woke up alone. 

 

The sun was high in the sky, and there was no Hella gently teasing him about oversleeping, no Lem prompting thoughts of where they might go for breakfast. Fero stared up at the ceiling, stretching his arms and legs out. The bed felt huge with just him in it.

 

He sighed and sat up, looking around the room. Lem’s books were on the table from where he’d left them that morning. One of Hella’s packs was in the corner, her clothes hanging half out of the bag.

 

Fero flopped back down on the bed, turning his back and pulling the covers over his head. Unfortunately, the memories of Lem and Hella were not as easily blocked out as the mid-morning sun, especially not by sheets that still smelt of them. Fero threw back the covers and flew out of the window. Maybe a change of scenery would help.

 

He flew to the market - no good, he’d visited almost every stall with Lem as the orc meticulously recorded the stock of each stall for his project. He flew to the docks - no good, the smell of salt water and fish made him think of Hella’s sharp grin as she and Ren talked of their childhoods by the sea. He flew high above the city, surveying it from a distance. It was all no good. There was no part of Velas that Lem and Hella had not left their fingerprints on in his memory.

 

Fero turned into a halfling as he landed. He’d walk around the city instead. Maybe if he tired himself out enough, he could just sleep until one of them returned.

 

“Whoa,” said a voice behind him, “that’s some trick.”

 

Fero turned to see Throndir, arms laden down with parcels and a large basket filled with rations. Kodiak, as always, was by his side, helpfully carrying another basket in his mouth.

 

Fero shrugged. “Hey Throndir. Yeah, it’s cool I guess. What’s with all the…” he gestured to the parcels in Throndir’s arms.

 

Throndir made a face. “The Velasian council asked me to go to Auniq to try and kick-start diplomatic ties with them before Ordena does.”

 

“But didn’t they kind of-”

 

“Yeah,” said Throndir, “but I guess the council thinks ‘banished snow elf’ is better than no snow elf at all.”

 

“By yourself?” said Fero.

 

“Well, I’ll have Kodiak,” said Throndir. Kodiak gave a muffled bark around the basket handle. “But yeah, I guess they figured it was too dangerous to send anyone else right now, not that they can spare it with, you know, Ordena.”

 

“I could come with you, if you wanted the company,” said Fero, trying to sound as casual as possible.

 

“You realise this isn’t a fun kind of trip, right?”

 

“No, yeah, I get that,” said Fero. “But I’m not doing anything right now, and it sounds like maybe you could use someone to watch your back on this one. And also, your dog is pretty cool.”

 

Kodiak barked happily.

 

“I guess that would be okay,” said Throndir, “Oh! Do you think Lem and Hella would want to come too?”

 

Fero’s throat felt tight as he tried to keep his tone light. “They, uh, they’re not here right now, so it would just be me.”

 

“That’s fine,” said Throndir quickly, “So, hey, I just got supplies for me and I was planning on leaving tomorrow, if that’s okay with you?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” said Fero, “I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

 

“Okay,” said Throndir. He paused. “Hey, Fero, I know we don’t know each other that well, but are you-”

 

“Gotta go get supplies if we’re going to be leaving tomorrow!” said Fero. The smile on his face felt brittle. “See ya tomorrow!”

 

Fero turned into a bird, quickly flying up into the air. He rode the air currents for a while, circling the city a few times before landing back on the windowsill of their room. He turned back into a halfling, swinging his legs as he sat on the windowsill looking into the room.

 

The empty spaces where Lem and Hella should have been felt cavernous, and yet at the same time the room was so still it was suffocatingly small. Fero tilted his body a far forward as it could go, leaning into the room and then out of it, focusing on his movements instead of the space and silence.

 

He overbalanced, tipping himself into the room and catching his fall on his palms.

 

“Ow,” he said aloud, and then made a face for talking to himself.

 

He started sorting through his packs. He didn’t need to buy any supplies - he didn’t need food and most of his adventurer's kit was still intact from their last journey. It would probably be a matter of packing enough warm clothes, and maybe some healing stuff. Fero turned to ask Lem and Hella if they knew anything about what he should bring into snow elf territory, getting as far as taking a breath to speak before he remembered Lem and Hella weren’t there. 

 

He pressed his lips together, letting out a long breath through his nose. It was fine. He’d get out of the city, and then there’d be no reminders of Lem or Hella and he’d stop acting like such a fool.

 

He rummaged around in his pack, pulling out clothing items and herbs. His hand closed around something unfamiliar, something smooth and cool to the touch, and he pulled it out to look at it. His breath caught in his throat. It was one of Lem’s spare inks. He’d got it when they were last at the market, and Lem always asked if he could store spare things in Fero’s packs, since Fero didn’t need the room for food. Hella had made some joke he couldn’t remember the wording of now, just her warmly amused tone of voice as she claimed equal storage rights in his bags.  In Fero’s memory, the afternoon light in the marketplace made the snowflakes around them shimmer. 

 

Fero’s hands shook, and he lost his grip on the bottle. He watched it as it fell and smashed, ink soaking into the well-worn floorboards. Fero sank to his knees, not really sure what to do, not really  _ able _ to do anything except watch the black ink spread further into the wood. His eyes felt prickly and hot and he rubbed at them.

 

“Dammit.” His voice came out as a whisper.

 

He tried to clean it up, but only succeeded at getting inky smudges on everything he touched. Eventually he gave up, leaving black streaks as he crawled into bed, pulling on the sleep shirt of Hella’s that she had forgotten. 

 

Fero pulled the blanket tight around himself, trying to make the bed feel smaller, or at least a little less big. It was a lot of space for just one halfling, especially when said halfling had gotten used to sharing the space with an orc and a larger-than-average human. It took Fero a long time to get to sleep.

 

In the morning before he left he pulled the rug over the now-dry stain, and hoped the room’s next occupant wouldn’t notice it.

  
  


_ (written in an untidy hand, the nib of the pen pressed so hard against the parchment in places that it has made small tears) _

 

_ Hella and Lem, _

 

_ I’m sure you’re wondering where I _ __ _ While you were gone I  _ __ _ I hope you both came back safe and _ __ _ I missed you and I wish that I _ __ _ Sorry for -- I don’t know when I’ll be back, but, _

 

_ (Fero didn’t leave a letter) _

  
  


Hella found the routine of travel easy to fall back into. She’d come up in the world doing this sort of protection-for-hire work, after all. She rode up and down the line of carriages as they moved slowly towards their destination, scanning the treeline for potential threats. Hadrian followed the same pattern, going in the opposite direction so that they could give their group the maximum amount coverage.

 

Or, at least, that was the theory behind it. It didn’t really work when Hadrian kept stopping to talk with Sabrina. Hella let herself loop around him a few times before she called him on it. The fifth time it happened, Hella caught Sabrina’s eye, and Sabrina winked, shooing off Hadrian as Hella approached as though they were young lovers caught behind the woodshed.

 

Hella laughed. It was good to have Sabrina there to travel with Hadrian. In her presence, Hadrian lost the strained look he often had on long journeys. He smiled more, too. Maybe there was something in what Sabrina had told her of sharing burdens, even if Hella never saw Hadrian air his troubles while on a mission. It seemed that just having her near him was enough to lighten him.

 

When they stopped for the night, Hadrian moved through the camp with Hella, checking the positions of the tents were as secure as they could be. He stopped suddenly and Hella soon saw why -- they were headed to check the last cart was tied down properly, but Sabrina had just come into view. She looked up from where she was attempting to light the campfire, and smiled at them.

 

Hella pushed at Hadrian’s shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Go.”

 

The strained look began to creep into Hadrian’s gaze. “Oh, I should-”

 

“Hadrian,” said Hella, trying to contain her laughter and only half succeeding, “I can handle checking one cart by myself.”

 

“Well I…” Hadrian huffed a laugh as Hella pushed at his shoulder again. “If you insist.”

 

“And I do,” said Hella.

 

Sabrina stood as Hadrian approached, smile growing wider. The two joined hands, speaking to each other in quiet voices. Sabrina said something to Hadrian, making him laugh and then smile, almost shyly, down at their joined hands.

 

It was a nice scene, a peaceful scene, but for some reason it made Hella feel as though someone was sitting on her chest. She turned away to see to the cart. If she took a little longer to check it over before she returned to the camp, well, that was nobody’s business but her own.

  
  


_ (written on the opposite side to her previous letter) _

 

_ Lem and Fero, _

 

_ I’m not truly sending these to you, but it still feels wrong to not speak with you for so long. Is that odd? I am sure that you, Lem, would tell me all about the pattern magic of a broken anchor chain, but it’s different from being told a story and living it yourself.  _

 

_ Fero, I know that you don’t like Hadrian, but I wish you were here. He’s doting on Sabrina to point of indecency, and I’m sure you would love to remind him of it from time to time to make him blush. I am doing it for you while you are not here, of course, but the load of embarrassing Hadrian is best suited for at least two people.  _

 

_ It is cold where I am, I hope you two are keeping each other warm. _

 

__ _ Yours, Varal.  _

  
  


“Yes, King, I know the purpose of that ruin; I might as well have written the book on its magical uses.” Fantasmo sighed from inside the cart, making a show of looking back down at his book.

 

“You’re right, yes, sorry, again, for bothering you.” 

 

Fantasmo sighed again. “It is alright, your interruptions are only to be expected.”

 

Lem climbed back out to the front of the cart and taking the reins again. The horses seemed to know what they were doing, but it was nice to feel like he was doing  _ something _ to aid in the journey. 

 

Lem sighed, and horse made a snuffling sound.

 

“You said it. Since we’re talking, may I tell you, then, uh... Horse? Do horses have names? Do you, Horse, talk with other horses? Communicate at all? After all, what are words but patterns spoken aloud to be translated by others? Do you have a loved one at home that you’re missing terribly? You probably do, you seem a nice horse.” Lem sighed. “But, as we all know, there is work to be done.”

 

Lem continued to speak on at this pace for a few moments, telling the horse about the nearby ruins, before turning to his right.

 

“Fero, can you turn into a horse and-”

 

There, of course, was nobody beside Lem on this road. Just a sketchbook and an old elf with no time for “frivolities” (his words). It gave Lem an odd, twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach, like when you climb the stairs at night and think there’s one less step than you thought.

 

“Ah,” said Lem quietly, “I suppose I’ll have to wait to ask.”

 

Lem listened to the quiet, steady pace of the horse, trying to center himself in rhythm of it. It was very quiet in the forest, although Lem was sure Fero would have disagreed. Fero always said that the forest was just as loud and busy as the city if you knew what to listen for.

 

Lem closed his eyes. He could still hear the even pace of the horse and, beneath that sound, the grinding of their wheels against the rocky ground. Far above him, the wind rushed through the treetops. There was a bird call, sticking to it’s own rhythm.

 

He looked up, but he couldn’t see the bird. Lem knew Fero would have been able to, he had a knack for spotting wildlife even when it was doing it’s best to camouflage itself.

 

“It’s easy when you’ve been a bird so many times,” Fero would say, grinning up at Lem.

 

The memory made Lem smile.

 

Fantasmo poked his head out of the canopy. “Watch where you’re driving. All this jolting is making it impossible to get any reading done.”

 

Lem nudged the reins mostly for show, since there wasn’t really a smooth path for them to go along. Before he could say anything, Fantasmo had disappeared back into the wagon, leaving Lem alone with his thoughts once again.

 

For Fero’s small size, he always seemed to have a large presence by Lem’s side. Fero might have thought the forest could be loud and busy, Lem thought it certainly felt quiet without him there. 

  
  


_ (written on the back page of Lem’s journal in a neat hand) _

 

_ Fero, _

 

_ We have traveled far today, and we have much further still to go. The journey feels longer, without you here. I’ve been talking to our horse, since he’s much more receptive to communication than The Great Fantasmo seems to be. I don’t know how much the horse understands me, but at least there is no long suffering sigh (or perhaps there is, and it’s just in a language I don’t understand - I wish you were here to translate). _

 

_ It is perhaps a little self-indulgent to write you this letter when I have no way of sending it to you, but doing so reminds me that the space between us isn’t as large as it feels. Soon, I tell myself, I will be back beside you, a pattern repaired. _

 

_ Until that time, I remain, yours _

_ Lem _

  
  


Fero met Throndir outside of the inn. Ordinarily, he would have complained about the early morning start, but it wasn’t as though he’d really been able to fall asleep anyway. Despite their absence, the bedsheets still smelt of Hella and Lem, and Fero had kept waking up in the night, the blanket twisted oddly around him, his arm reaching out before he remembered that no one else was there.

 

“Good morning,” said Throndir cheerfully, “Ready to go?”

 

Fero nodded, shifting his pack’s weight on his back. 

 

Throndir eyed his pack. “Are you sure you have everything?”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “I don’t really need much, I mean, I don’t eat, so that really cuts down on what I have to bring everywhere.”

 

Throndir frowned. “Oh, I thought I’d seen you eat stuff before.”

 

“I mean, I  _ can _ eat, but I don’t have to,” said Fero, “I usually just get whatever Lem and Hella get, they uh…” 

 

Fero trailed off, his tired mind catching on Lem and Hella and staying there. They’d gotten dumplings as their last shared meal, from somewhere in the market. The person making them was a friend of Lem’s, chatting with them about Lem’s project as they tried to order. It would have been more annoying if Lem’s face hadn’t lit up at an opportunity to talk to someone about it. Hella’s impatience melted away at the sight of their food, and she kept trying to steal from his plate (he’d let her, of course, he’d probably let her do anything to keep her smiling at him).

 

Throndir coughed. “Well, okay. Let’s head out.”

 

“No horses?”

 

Throndir made a face. “Sorry. The snow gets pretty bad out there, it wouldn’t be fair on them.”

 

“But Kodiak will be okay?”

 

Kodiak barked and Throndir laughed, ruffling the fur on Kodiak’s head.

 

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine, won’t you buddy?” 

 

Kodiak barked again and this time Fero laughed.

 

They headed out of the city together. It was a lot different to the journey out of Velas he’d taken with Hella and Lem, the snow making the forest seem like another world. A quieter world. Throndir’s voice seemed to echo off the trees as he spoke about their path to Auniq.

 

Fero tripped on a log he couldn’t see, and Throndir caught his arm, stopping him from falling.

 

“Careful,” said Throndir, his voice kind, “the snow can keep danger unseen until it’s too late.”

 

“You don’t seem too worried about it,” said Fero.

 

“Yes, but I’m  _ The Ranger _ ,” said Throndir with a flourish.

 

“What does  _ that _ mean?”

 

Throndir deflated a little and Fero  _ immediately _ felt guilty. 

 

“No, okay, you’re the ranger,” said Fero, trying to sound enthusiastic, “I get it.”

 

Throndir smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good! Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got a long way to go before we can make camp for the night.”

 

The journey through the snow was pretty much what Fero expected - cold, tiring, and difficult. Throndir didn’t seem to mind it, and Kodiak looked like he was downright enjoying it, sometimes bounding through the snow ahead of them.

 

It was almost dark when they came across a small clearing. There was a grouping of large trees and that combined with the sloping ground had created a small patch of snow-less ground. The muddy ground didn’t look too inviting to Fero, but Throndir looked happy enough to set up camp there.

 

“I’ll go… get firewood?” offered Fero.

 

Throndir nodded, attention fixed on setting up the tent. “Sure, but be careful, remember what I said about snow covering dangers.”

 

Fero wandered away, prodding at the snow with his foot, searching for stray branches. The last time he’d had to collect firewood was much easier. It had be cold, sure, but there hadn’t been snow everywhere. He hadn’t even really needed a jacket, although that was mostly because Lem had been…

 

Fero bit his lip, grinning to himself at the memory. He and Lem had snuck off for some time together in the woods, thinking they were being very clever for finding such a legitimate excuse. It wasn’t until much later that Hella had told them that she’d known all along what they were doing, which had led to a  _ very _ pleasant night of recreating those events to include Hella.

 

He was so distracted - thinking about how Hella’s hair looked when she took it down, how it gleamed red-gold in the lamplight as she flicked it over her shoulders, Lem’s body warm and solid behind him as she grinned down at them - that he didn’t even notice the ditch until he’d fallen into it. One moment he was walking, thinking about a much warmer night, and the next he was lying in a tiny creek, a trickle of freezing water making its way down his neck, looking up at the twilight sky, feeling winded and foolish.

 

After he got his breath back, he tried to pull himself out of the ditch, hoping to do it fast enough that Throndir wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately, his bad luck held out. Just as he’d managed to reach the lip of the ditch, Kodiak bounded up to him, startling him. Fero lost his grip, landing with a loud  _ splat _ . Kodiak barked.

 

“Apology not accepted,” wheezed Fero.

 

He pulled himself to his feet, looking up at Kodiak. “This never happened.”

 

Kodiak barked. 

 

Fero jumped, turning into a cougar mid-air and just managing to claw his way back onto higher ground. He turned back into a halfling, and began walking back to the campsite. Throndir had already set up the tent and cleared some of the snow away to make a small fire pit.

 

“Hey Fero, how’d it go with finding- Whoa, what happened? Are you okay?”

 

Throndir moved towards him, a concerned look on his face. Fero took a step backwards.

 

“I’m fine, I just wasn’t watching where I was going and I fell,” said Fero, feeling his face heat up. “I had some firewood but I dropped it, uh, sorry.”

 

“That’s okay buddy,” said Throndir, “Oh, hey, it looks like Kodiak’s got some.”

 

Kodiak dropped the bundle of sticks he was carrying and barked happily. 

 

Throndir ruffled his fur again. “Good boy Kodiak, you’re a good boy.”

 

Throndir looked at Fero expectantly.

 

“Uh,” said Fero, not really knowing what to say, “thanks Kodiak.”

 

Throndir smiled, so Fero figured that was probably the right thing to say.

 

“You won’t be able to have a bath until we get to Auniq, but you should probably get changed,” said Throndir, “You did bring a change of clothes, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think so,” said Fero.

 

Throndir beamed. “Okay, well, you go do that while I get this fire going.”

 

“With damp wood?”

 

“I’m  _ the ranger _ Fero, if I can’t do it, who can?”

 

Changing clothes didn’t really help Fero feel any less cold, but at least he wasn’t soaked in muddy water anymore. Throndir had, in fact, managed to get the fire going, cooking some of his rations as Fero exited the tent.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

“Warmer,” said Fero, forcing a smile onto his face.

 

Throndir hummed to himself as he cooked. The tune wasn’t one Fero recognised, but his mind immediately went to Lem. Lem, humming to himself, over a campfire much like this one, as they made their trek away from the New Archives. He’d already been so in love with Lem, even then. Lem, humming to himself as he transcribed an old book at their table, not noticing as Fero and Hella exchanged looks behind him, grinning as they planned mutually beneficial distractions.

 

Fero sighed. He was wet, and muddy, and miserable, and he missed them both  _ so much _ that he almost hated them, except he could never do that, so he just stared at the small campfire and felt hollow instead. He hoped they were both somewhere warmer than he was.

  
  


_ Fero doesn’t write a letter, but if he did, it would be a short one, just three words long: _

 

_ I miss you. _

  
  


The place the diplomatic meeting was to take place had been carefully chosen, equal distance from the city of Velas and the Ordenan capital.

 

“And it’s by the ocean, of course,” said Sabrina. “Military leaders always feel more comfortable if they feel like they can break up a diplomatic meeting by sending a fleet of ships.”

 

They were waiting for the scouts to return to say that Ordena was close by. Apparently it was bad diplomatic form to arrive too early. Hella, who had never been very good at the sitting and waiting part of the job, was sharpening her sword. Hadrian, who was equally bad at sitting and waiting but who pretended to be good at it, paced in front of Sabrina’s carriage.

 

“What’s the layout of the place?” asked Hadrian.

 

Sabrina’s lips twitched. “The same as it was when you asked me ten minutes ago.”

 

“I just want to have all the information I can before we get there,” said Hadrian. “I don’t see what’s so bad about having a plan.”

 

Sabrina caught Hadrian’s hands as he walked past, stopping him. She stood up, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

 

“There isn’t anything wrong with it, but I think there is such a thing as being overplanned,” said Sabrina. “Especially when all you’re doing is thinking about negative outcomes.”

 

“It’s my  _ job  _ to think of all the negative outcomes,” said Hadrian. “How else am I supposed to keep you safe?”

 

“By letting me do  _ my _ job,” said Sabrina. “Some wars are ended by words, after all.”

 

Hella stood as a figure approached them - it was their scout, coming to a skidding stop in front of Sabrina and Hadrian.

 

“The Ordenans are on their way,” said the scout, a little out of breath.

 

Sabrina nodded. “Tell the rest of the party that we are moving out immediately.”

 

The scout nodded and ran down the line of carriages, passing the word along.

 

“Time for me to go to work,” said Sabrina.

 

Hadrian nodded, and Sabrina leant up, kissing him light and quick.

 

“For luck,” said Sabrina.

 

“You don’t need luck,” said Hadrian, “you have the blessings of Samothes.”

 

Sabrina smiled. “You know, you’re right.”

 

She leant up again, putting a hand on Hadrian’s chest as she kissed him again, slowly this time. Hadrian was blushing when she pulled away.

 

“Pass on my thanks to Samothes,” said Sabrina, “for the blessing.”

 

“Yeah,” said Hadrian breathily, “I’ll do that.”

 

“Come on lovebirds,” said Hella, clapping a hand on Hadrian’s shoulder, “time to do what we came for.”

 

If Hadrian stuck a little closer to Sabrina’s carriage than he was supposed to, well, Hella wasn’t about to call him on it. She could guard the others well enough herself.

 

The talks were to be held inside an old gazebo overlooking the ocean. It was open on all sides, the worn stone pillars supporting the curved roof carved with intricate symbols. Inside the gazebo was a rough-looking stone table with low seats made of the same rough stone set around it. Lem, Hella thought, would have loved it.

 

She and Hadrian flanked the group of Velasian diplomats as they approached the Ordenan group. The Ordenans were also flanked by two people, and they glared at Hella as she approached. She raised an eyebrow, meeting their gaze until they looked away. Fero, Hella thought, would have made a joke about that.

 

Sabrina exchanged minor pleasantries with the older man who seemed to be the Ordenan diplomat’s leader before guiding both groups to the gazebo. Hella, Hadrian, and the two Ordenan guards waited outside, watching.

 

Hadrian held out his hand. “Greetings, I am Hadrian, Sword of Samothes, Defender of the Undying Fire, Officer of the Order of Eternal Princes.”

 

“Yes,” said the Ordenan, pointedly looking down at Hadrian’s hand and back up again, “we know who you are, and we know who your  _ companion _ is.”

 

Hella put her hand on her sword hilt and the Ordenans mirrored her movement.

 

Hadrian held out a hand. “There’s no need for such aggression. Our peoples are here for peace.”

 

“You are a fool if you believe that we will ever surrender to you,” spat the other Ordenan.

 

“It’s not about  _ surrender _ ,” began Hella.

 

“Be that as it may,” interrupted Hadrian, “we are not the ones making that decision this day.”

 

“Not  _ this _ day,” said the Ordenan.

 

Hella said nothing, but she did make a show of tightening her grip on her sword hilt. Both Ordenans moved further away from Hella and Hadrian, and Hella waited until they’d stopped glaring at her before she relaxed her grip.

 

“Do you think they’ll be trouble?” said Hadrian quietly.

 

Hella tapped a finger on her sword hilt, thinking. “Maybe. If they think they have an opportunity.”

 

“Well then” said Hardian, “We’ll just have to make sure they don’t get one.”

 

The rest of the day’s talks were uneventful. Hella watched as parchment was passed back and forth across the table. Occasionally Sabrina or the elder Ordenan would keep some paper rather than handing it back. Sometimes this seemed to be a good sign, prompting smiles from everyone seated, and other times it seemed to be a bad sign, with glares or smug smiles. Hella had never felt more glad not to be a diplomat.

 

Not that her current job was any more exciting. She kept an eye on the two Ordenan guards, although they didn’t seem to be planning anything. One of them seemed to be having trouble staying awake, which Hella could certainly relate to with the sound of the waves rhythmically crashing onto the cliff below them.

 

There was no beach below them, only sheer cliff face ending in jagged rocks and the deep ocean. There had been a place like that in Hella’s hometown, past the factory. Her brothers used to tell stories about ghosts haunting the rocks below, calling people down to their deaths. 

 

Not that Hella believed such stories now, of course. Anybody who fell did so because they were being foolish, not because ghosts told them to. An old Ordenan story meant to push blame onto unnatural forces rather than themselves.

 

There was a beach a little way off in the distance, if Hella strained her eyes to look at it. It couldn’t be Rosemerrow, they were still too far away for that to be the case, but Hella thought of it anyway. Fero had told her of his own childhood by the sea, a very different one to her own. The beach nearest to Fero was sandy and tree-covered, although that had been changing when he’d left.

 

“I thought you liked change,” Hella had said.

 

Fero wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, but they were going about it all wrong. If you’re changing something to glorify the past, that’s not really change. Also, it was just a really cool place to hang out, and now it’s probably gone and you’ll never get to see it.”

 

“I’ve seen a beach before,” said Hella.

 

“Yeah but this one was different,” said Fero, “it had these big trees, and this cave where you could, um, you know, get away for awhile.”

 

“Get away? From what?”

 

Fero had gone red. “You know. Just your parents, or whoever.”

 

“Ah,” said Hella grinning, “we had a place like that too, but ours was out by the old warehouses. We’d have to climb the fence to get in, but it always felt worth it.”

 

“What did?” said Lem.

 

Fero and Hella exchanged looks, and Fero grinned.

 

“I think it’s probably easier if we show you.”

 

“I think your smiling is worrying the Ordenans,” said Hadrian, breaking through Hella’s memories.

 

She shook herself. “Well. Good.”

 

“What  _ were _ you smiling about?”

 

“None of your business,” said Hella.

 

Hadrian grinned. “Never mind, I think I can guess.”

 

Hella shoved at Hadrian’s shoulder. “As though you’re one to talk.”

 

“I never claimed to be a saint,” said Hadrian.

 

It was late by the time the talks finished for the night. Sabrina smiled tiredly as she walked towards them.

 

“Good news, we can start heading back tomorrow,” said Sabrina.

 

“You have a treaty already?” said Hella.

 

Sabrina huffed a laugh. “No. But now we have a better idea of what they want, and they have a better idea of what we want, so things can actually move along a bit more next time.”

 

“Next time,” said Hella flatly.

 

“It’s not as much of a waste of time as it seems from the outside,” said Sabrina, “It’s to be expected. These were just preliminary talks, after all. Now the real work begins.”

 

“I think,” said Hella, “that I am glad I never went into diplomacy.”

 

Sabrina laughed.

 

Hella left Sabrina and Hadrian to their own devices, taking the first watch as the camp went to sleep for the night. She could see the fires of the Ordenan camp in the distance, flames flicking in the darkness. She watched them, listening to the waves crash upon distant rocks, as the moon rose high in the sky.

 

In the still darkness, she heard the snapping of a branch. Hella froze, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Close to the camp. There were other sounds too, now that she was listening for them, soft footfalls on dry leaves. Only one person. That was good. No need to wake Hadrian for this.

 

Hella readied her sword, and headed towards the source of the sound. In the moonlight she could see a figure in Ordenan armor, hovering by Hadrian and Sabrina’s tent. They reached for the opening of the tent. She crept up behind them, putting her blade to their throat.

 

“Do not make a sound,” said Hella softly, “Drop your weapon.”

 

“I-”

 

“Drop your weapon or you will not live to use it,” said Hella.

 

The Ordenan dropped their weapon, and it landed with a soft thud by their feet.

 

“Good,” said Hella.

 

“What happens now?”

 

“Now we take a little walk,” said Hella, “so that we don’t disturb anyone while we talk.”

 

“ _ Talk _ ?” said the Ordenan, “Commander Abolere was right, living in Velas has made you weak.”

 

“Would you rather I killed you? Because I promise you that I can.”

 

“You’re the one with the sword, if you’d rather talk than fight…”

 

“Unlike some, I can do both,” said Hella, moving her sword do that it poked through a gap in their armor. “Move.”

 

She forced the Ordenan forward, walking them until they reached the small strip of land between the gazebo and the cliff’s edge.

 

“Who sent you?” said Hella.

 

“You’ll get nothing from me,” said the Ordenan, “I’m not a traitor like you.”

 

Hella hit them, keeping ahold of their arm to stop them from stumbling back.

 

“I will only ask you once more,” said Hella, “Who sent you?”

 

“A  _ true  _ Ordenan takes risks for the glory of our nation and does not wait to be guided by a larger hand.”

 

“So nobody sent you, then,” said Hella calmly. “That’s good to know.”

 

She gripped the Ordenan by the shoulder, keeping them in place as she pushed her blade through them. The Ordenan gasped wetly, grasping weakly at her arm, her shirt. Hella didn’t remove her blade until their movements had stilled.

 

Hella let the Ordenan fall backwards, their arms flailing for a moment before they disappeared. She leant over the cliff’s edge, watching as the Ordenan’s body got smaller and smaller. She couldn’t even hear their body hit the rocks over the sound of the waves.

 

Hella wiped her blade on the grass and sheathed it, before walking quickly to her horse. She had a spare shirt in her pack. There was no need to tell anyone of this. Telling Hadrian would only cause him to worry more for Sabrina and feel guilt over the lost soul of the Ordenan.

 

The Ordenans… if the Ordenans had known of this plan, they would at least suspect her involvement in its failure, but that was of no concern. They would only push forward if their plan had succeeded. Mentions of failed plans would only serve to make them look weak in the eyes of their commanders.

 

Hella stuffed her bloodied shirt to the bottom of her pack. This would be a secret, but not a shameful one. A sword, after all, is forged to kill, and Hella had been a sword long before she was a shield.

  
  


_ (written in between the lines of her previous letters) _

 

_ Lem and Fero, _

 

_ I have  _ _ Sometimes in my life I have done things that I know you would find unimaginable, cruel and violent things.  _ _ I do not _ _ I have few regrets in my life where that is concerned. I’m sure that would be unimaginable for you too, to take a life and to think nothing of it, but it has always been that way for me. _

 

_ I hope it is never that way for you. I hope I can keep your hands clean of this kind of life, and shield you from the harm that spreads from it. _

 

_ Your sword, _

_ Varal _

  
  


Lem and Fantasmo’s footsteps echoed as they walked through the cave, Fantasmo leading the way, his staff the only source of light in the darkness. Lem kept one hand on his sword as they walked, although he wasn’t sure how much use he would be in a fight if they came across something dangerous. Still, that was what Hella would do in a dangerous situation, and so Lem found comfort in Hella’s imagined stamp of approval.

 

The cave was odd. The entrance had seemed like a natural enough formation, and for the first hour or so of walking it had seemed unremarkable. As they got deeper though, the structure of the cave changed. The walls became smoother, and Lem thought he even saw a few notches where torches might go. The floor changed from rough stone and dirt to dusty slate tiles. The tunnel itself went from twisting paths and sharp corners to one long, unnaturally straight corridor, sloping gently downwards. It also began narrowing, forcing them to walk single file.

 

The light from Fantasmo’s staff only illuminated the next few feet in front of them, so it was impossible to tell how much further they had to walk, and the total darkness around them made it difficult for Lem to tell how long they’d been traveling for.

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

 

Fantamo’s pace didn’t falter. “Of  _ course _ I am sure. That you would doubt my knowledge on this cave is insulting.”

 

“Right,” said Lem quickly, “Sorry.”

 

The sound of their footsteps was the only sound in the darkness.

 

“It’s just that… we’ve been walking for a while now,” said Lem hesitantly, “and we haven’t found anything yet.”

 

Fantasmo gave a huff of disapproval. “Such is the impatience of youth.”

 

“I think I’ve been very patient,” said Lem, “We’ve been walking for hours now, probably, and we don’t even know where this tunnel ends, if it even ever does.”

 

“All tunnels must end somewhere,” said Fantasmo.

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“Ah, see?” said Fantasmo, “Here we are now.”

 

Lem peered around Fantasmo. The tunnel split up ahead, forming two paths - one sloped downwards, and the other continued flat. It didn’t look to Lem as though they’d arrived anywhere.

 

Fantasmo didn’t even pause at the entrance, picking the downward-sloping path immediately.

 

“Wait,” said Lem, reaching out to grab the back of Fantasmo’s robes, “shouldn’t we talk about which path we’re taking?”

 

Fantasmo slowly looked from Lem’s hand to his face, raising an eyebrow. Lem dropped the fabric, feeling his face warm in the cool air of the cave.

 

“Sorry, I normally have to- Sorry.”

 

Fantasmo sighed. “It’s fine. Why do you think this path is incorrect?”

 

“I, um, I don’t? But I think we should look at both of them?” said Lem, his voice sounding a lot less sure than he’d meant it to.

 

Fantasmo sighed again. “Very well, if it will make  _ you _ feel better.”

 

They doubled back and walked a little ways into the flatter path. It continued on for a couple of feet, before stopping at a large panel.

 

“There,” said Fantasmo, “this way is blocked, so it  _ must _ be the other way. I was right.”

 

Lem put a hand on the panel. It was metal and, as he pushed on it, he could feel it give, just a little. Not as though he could have pushed it over, more like the metal had warped, making space in-between it and whatever was on the other side. Now that he was closer, he could see a gap at the top of the panel. Fero, Lem thought, could have turned into a mouse and slipped through.

 

“Come along, King,” said Fantasmo, heading back along towards the other path. “We are wasting time.”

 

Lem knocked on the panel, and it sounded a little hollow. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sound, and knocked again. Not hollow, but there was space there, he was sure of it.

 

“Fantasmo,” said Lem, “I think maybe- Oh.”

 

Fantasmo was already around the corner, and Lem scrambled to get back towards the light. Fantasmo was walking faster than before, and as Lem caught up to him he understood why - as they went further along the tunnel, the slope downwards got steeper and steeper. Lem put his hand on his sword again. He slipped a little of the dusty slate floor, steadying himself on the wall. 

 

“Fantasmo,” said Lem, catching the back of Fantasmo’s robes again, “I don’t know if this way is safe.”

 

“Will you stop doing that?” said Fantasmo, turning a little as he walked, “And I told you, this cave is perfectly-”

 

Fantasmo stumbled, and dropped out of Lem’s view. Lem tightened his hand in Fantasmo’s robes, the momentum of Fantasmo’s fall pulling him forward. Lem pulled out his sword and stabbed it into the ground, managing to catch it in a crack between the walls and the slate floor. It was the only thing that prevented both of them from tumbling into the abyss below.

 

“Were you about to say  _ perfectly safe _ ?” said Lem.

 

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” said Fantasmo, “pull us back up.”

 

Lem tightened his grip on his sword hilt. “Um.”

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

 

Lem tried to think of what a seasoned adventurer would do in this situation. What  _ Hella  _ would do. He bit his lip, concentrating, and began to swing Fantasmo back and forth, trying to build enough momentum to swing Fantasmo back over onto solid ground.

 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” said Fantasmo.

 

Lem ignored him, his mind tracing curved patterns in the air. He hummed three short notes and let go, watching as Fantasmo arced through the air and landed back in the corridor with a loud and undignified “ _ Oof _ .”

 

Lem pulled himself back up and lay still for a moment, feeling the ache in his arms.

 

“Thank you,” said Fantasmo awkwardly.

 

“You’re welcome,” said Lem.

 

Lem sat up, bracing his feet against the wall of the cave to tug his sword out of the wall. He stood up slowly, and held a hand out to Fantasmo.

 

“I think we should take another look at the other tunnel,” said Lem, trying to sound confident.

 

Fantasmo sighed, then accepted Lem’s hand. Lem pulled him to his feet.

 

“I suppose, since we’re down here anyway, it cannot hurt to take a second look.”

 

They made their way carefully back up the tunnel and towards the other passage. Fantasmo held his staff close to the panel, looking closely at it in the glow. Lem ran a hand along the top edge experimentally.

 

“I believe there is a mechanism here that may open this,” said Fantasmo, from where he was peering at the edge of the panel where it met the wall.

 

“What kind of mechanism? Can you open it?”

 

Fantasmo frowned. “It is… unfamiliar to me.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, trying to hide his disappointment.

 

“I could probably blast it open,” suggested Fantasmo.

 

“No!” said Lem quickly.

 

It was Fantasmo’s turn to look disappointed.

 

“I could… play something?” offered Lem.

 

Fantasmo raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly would that help our situation?”

 

Lem bristled. “It wouldn’t hurt to at least  _ try _ my idea before you go and blow the whole thing up.”

 

“I suppose this is some of your  _ pattern _ magic,” sighed Fantasmo.

 

“Yes,” snapped Lem, “It is.”

 

Lem got out his violin, and began to play. It began as one he knew, a general sort of pattern about door opening and knowledge revealed, but as he played, small curious notes joined with longer, deeper notes of the song. Lem thought of the first time he saw Fero transform into an animal, his body reshaping itself, and of his eyes bright and glittering in the firelight as he shared with Lem the story of how he came to have that ability. Lem thought of Hella, haltingly telling him about her sword’s powers for the first time, as though she was afraid of his reaction, her relieved smile at his curious questions.

 

There was a loud, grinding noise of metal on stone, and the door slid away.

 

“Fascinating,” muttered Fantasmo muttered.

 

Lem smiled widely, ducking his head to try and hide his pleased expression. Fantasmo’s eyes were too quick though, and Fantasmo swiftly changed his curious expression to the more familiar frown.

 

“I suppose that your idea had its merits,” said Fantasmo, turning to enter the small room.

 

The room was small and circular, the only entry way into the room was the one they’d just came through. In fact, the panel was the only wall space that wasn’t covered in shelves. There was a single, dusty armchair in the corner next to a small, ornately-carved table. A rug was laid out in the middle on the floor, and they left footprints in the thick dust as they walked across it. 

 

It must have been someone’s beautiful private library once. The only thing missing were the books. 

 

Fantasmo moved slowly around the room, looking closely at each shelf, his frown growing deeper as he searched.

 

Lem stepped into the room behind Fantasmo, heading over to examine the armchair. The fabric of it was worn - this had definitely been a room well-used, rather than a showpiece library - but the gold thread glinting through the dust made Lem want to take a closer look. The small table next to the chair looked unusual too, the legs carved to look like creeping vines. They were here for books, but Archivists had learnt many things from the objects people left behind.

 

Something crunched underfoot as Lem got closer, and he looked down to see a broken oil lamp. Like the table, the metal of the lamp was carved with tiny figures. Lem squinted at them in the low light - it looked like a scene of celebration. One of the figures held a cup aloft, and the others figured appeared to be cheering. Lem flicked off the remains of the broken glass and carefully slipped the metal into one of his pockets.

 

“There’s nothing here,” said Fantasmo.

 

He sounded surprised, staring around at the empty shelves.

 

“Well, there’s this chair,” offered Lem.

 

Lem wiped away some of the dust on the backrest of the chair so that Fantasmo could better see the fabric. The red and gold of the thick cloth was less like a repeating pattern and more a tapestry someone had repurposed for the chair, showing two figures, one in gold and one in red, under a golden sun, hands clasped together as they looked at each other. Two armies, one in gold and the other in red, stood on either side of the figures, readying for battle, weapons drawn. The scene was a little off center, as though it had been made by someone still learning the process.

 

“We did not come here to collect  _ furniture _ ,” said Fantasmo.

 

Lem tried to hide his disappointment.

 

“But I suppose it is worth taking,” added Fantasmo quickly, “ _ if _ you think you can carry it.”

 

Lem lifted the chair a little, experimentally. “I think so?”

 

Fantasmo nodded. “Good.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose there is nothing left to do but to head back.”

 

As Lem lifted the chair, he saw something in the dust underneath it and nudged it with his foot. It looked like paper.

 

“Um, Fantasmo?”

 

“Yes, King,” said Fantasmo tiredly, “what is it?”

 

“Um,” said Lem, poking the paper with his foot again, “I think I found something.”

 

Fantasmo went to his knees, carefully picking up the paper. Lem couldn’t read the words on it at the angle Fantasmo was holding it, but it looked like old parchment, the paper thick and yellowed.

 

“What does it say?”

 

“I… do not know,” said Fantasmo, “it will require translation and I did not bring such resources with me.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem. He bit his lip, thinking. “I could have a go at it, if you like?”

 

Fantasmo shot him a withering look. “I’m sure that I will be able to do so myself, once we return to Velas.”

 

“Did you still want to take the chair?”

 

“I did not want to take it in the first place,” said Fantasmo, “but as you seem committed to pillaging…”

 

“You thought we were here to take an  _ entire library’s _ worth of books!”

 

“That’s different.”

 

Lem shifted the chair’s weight, resting it against his hip. “How is that any different?”

 

“I would have been returning knowledge to the world,” said Fantasmo, his tone serious.

 

“Well, that’s what I’m doing,” said Lem.

 

“With… this chair,” said Fantasmo, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You can learn things from objects other than books,” snapped Lem.

 

“I suppose that this is more of your  _ pattern magic _ .”

 

“No,” said Lem, “this is some of my  _ archivist training _ .”

 

He pushed past Fantasmo, heading back up the sloping tunnel. It seemed much, much further on the journey back, but that could just have been because walking without Fantasmo’s lighted staff meant walking in total darkness. 

 

Lem didn’t stop though. He’d had just about enough of pushing back against Fantasmo’s withering gaze. If he wanted to be made to feel as though he knew nothing of history, he would have gone back to the New Archives.

 

It was easy enough to walk without a light anyway, following the smooth walls of the tunnel up and up. His arms ached, but there was no way he was going to leave the chair behind. It was too valuable to abandon, whatever Fantasmo thought.

 

Lem could feel the ornately curled feet of the chair with his fingertips as he walked. This chair would have a lot to tell someone, once they figured out the right way to read it. There were plenty of skilled carpenters and upholsterers in Velas that would be able to unravel the language of this chair, and, thanks to his modern history project, he knew most of them by name.

 

_ The tapestry fabric would be the most difficult part _ , thought Lem, slowing his pace slightly as his traced through his mental map of the city. It might be best to start with haberdasheries, if he could form enough of a knowledge basis about the threads themselves, maybe the rest would follow. There would be much to do when they returned to Velas.

 

But first, he would go home. First he would see Fero and Hella again.

  
  


_ (written across from his previous letter, accompanied by a sketch of the chair) _

 

_ Fero, _

 

_ I’m bringing back a chair. And not just because the Great Fantasmo thinks it was foolish to do so, I truly believe it has merit in studying the type of wood and the way the fabric has been weaved together to form pictures. You are lighter than this chair, and much more welcome. _

 

_ It is a very beautiful chair, although I do not relish the thought of carrying it all over the city. It will probably feel lighter once I am back beside you. _

 

_ I miss you. _

 

__ _ yours, _

__ _ King _

 

_ PS: It is definitely because Fantasmo thought it was a bad idea. Being stubborn is such a burden and I am grateful that you take it on so willingly.  _ __

  
  


The snow was thicker as they got closer to their destination, slowing their progress. Snow that went up to Throndir’s knees was waist-high for Fero. He tried to walk behind Kodiak as the dog cleared a path, without making it seem too obvious that he was doing so. 

 

Ordinarily, Lem or Hella would have picked him up, but he would have felt strange asking that of Throndir. He didn’t really ask it of Lem either, there was just a point during their travels together where Lem had looked down one day and offered to carry Fero the rest of the way. Fero remembered that he had  _ almost _ felt embarrassed, except that it was an amazing excuse to be able to wrap his arms around Lem’s shoulders.

 

Fero liked sitting on Lem and Hella’s shoulders, being able to play with their hair as they walked, feeling the vibration of their laughter at something he said. Now, struggling through the snow, the memory of their laughter felt as distant as the warmth of the sun.

 

Throndir grew quiet as they approached the city, squaring his shoulders, his mouth set in a grim line. Kodiak, too, seemed more wary, ears up and twitching. Fero tried to copy their posture.

 

Auniq was different to other cities Fero had seen, with it’s high walls of thick stone and fortified gates. Other cities had walls, sure, but they sprawled past them easily, the walls becoming more of markers of different districts than defenses.

 

An arrow sailed out of the high walls and landed at their feet.

 

Throndir raised his hands up. “I am not here for a fight. I come on behalf of the city of Velas.”

 

“What proof do you have of that?” came a voice from the wall.

 

“I have a seal of Velas, and a letter from it’s council,” said Throndir, “which I can show you if you stop shooting at us.”

 

There was a grinding noise, and the heavy gate opened a fraction, just small enough to let a heavily-armed elf slip out.

 

“Beladore, it’s good to see you again,” Thorondir began, smiling.

 

“The last time you were here, your friends attacked me and started a prison riot,” said Beladore.

 

Thorondir’s smile changed to a grimace. “I am still sorry about that. I came for selfish gains last time, but this time I am truly sent from the Velasian council. They wish to start diplomatic discussions.”

 

“Also the most magic I can do is turn into a bear, and I think you guys could take me,” Fero said, poking his head out from behind Kodiak. 

 

Beladore laughed. “I like this one. It is always nice when an enemy understands that they do not have the upper hand.”

 

“I’m not the enemy!” said Fero, “I’m here on behalf of Velas, too!”

 

Throndir kept one hand raised as he reached into his coat pocket to hand Beladore the sigil of Velas and sealed letter. Beladore tore open the letter and scanned his eyes over the page quickly before handing it and the sigil back to Throndir.

 

“This is proof enough for me.”

 

“Will it be proof enough for the city elders?”

 

“We shall see,” said Beladore, gesturing for them to follow him.

 

Fero tugged at Throndir’s jacket. “Hey, do you think they’d let me, uh, borrow a bath?”

 

Beladore laughed again. “If your little friend would like to, I can arrange one for him while you go speak to the elders.”

 

“Thank you,” said Fero emphatically, earning another laugh from Beladore.

 

“The dog must stay outside, though,” Beladore gestured to Kodiak, who had already begun sniffing at the snow elves who had met them at the gates.

 

“Uh, the dog is part of the guard, too,” Fero said, looking between Thorondir’s increasingly downturned eyebrows and Beladore’s steadfastness. Kodiak boofed in agreement of Fero’s lie. 

 

“Very well, but we are  _ not _ to give him a bath,” Beladore smiled at Fero, conceding to his point. 

 

The city of Auniq looked as the walls around it would suggest it did -- thick stone structures, built to withstand attack from outside forces and the cold. Beladore spoke quietly to a few other elves, and a few broke off, heading in opposite directions.

 

“Mataire will show you to a place that you can bathe,” said Beladore, gesturing to the elf at his right.

 

Mataire nodded, looking curiously at Fero.

 

“I can wait to take you to the elders if you also wish to refresh yourself,” offered Beladore.

 

Throndir took a deep breath. “No, I’m fine. I’d rather speak to them as soon as possible.”

 

Beladore nodded. “Very well. Mataire can show....?”

 

“Fero Feritas,” Fero supplied quickly, “of Velas.”

 

“...Fero the way back after he’s done.”

 

Throndir looked down at Fero. “Are you okay with that? I can wait, if you want.”

 

Fero made a shooing gesture. “It’s fine, you’re charming enough without my help.”

 

Throndir laughed, clapping Fero on the shoulder before turning to follow Beladore away, Kodiak following after Throndir.

 

“So,” said Fero, covering his awkwardness with a grin, “which way to this bath I’ve heard so much about?”

 

Mataire blinked. “Follow me.”

 

Mataire led Fero through the small stone streets, winding through houses until they came to a tall building made of the same grey stone as the wall. Mataire led Fero up the high steps, walking faster than Fero’s legs could carry him.

 

“Oh,” said Mataire awkwardly, looking back to see Fero climbing up the last few stairs, “Sorry, I didn’t think- Well.”

 

Fero forced a smile, because he was here helping on a diplomatic mission, and that seemed like the more diplomatic choice of action.

 

“That’s okay. I know you guys don’t get many visitors.”

 

“No, we don’t” said Mataire. They bit their lip. “If you don’t mind me asking…”

 

“What?”

 

“Where are you from?” asked Mataire hesitantly.

 

“Well, Throndir and I came from Velas, that’s kind of why we’re here,” said Fero, waving a hand, “with the whole ‘diplomatic mission’ thing. But I’m from Rosemerrow, originally.”

 

Mataire nodded. “I’ve heard of Rosemerrow.”

 

“Well, I hope you won’t hold anything you’ve heard against me,” said Fero, “Can we go inside? I don’t know what it feels like to a snow elf out here, but it’s kind of freezing for a halfling.”

 

Mataire laughed. “You should visit us in the winter.  _ Then _ you’ll know what cold is.”

 

Fero wrinkled his nose. “No thank you.”

 

Mataire pushed open the large wooden door, leading Fero inside. It was much warmer inside, a large fire heating the air and casting an orange glow around the room. Several elves, all in various levels of armor, looked up as they entered.

 

“This is Fero,” said Mataire, “he came with Throndir, and Beladore instructed me to bring him here to refresh himself.”

 

One of the elves, a female with sun-darkened skin, nodded. “We were informed. Proceed.”

 

Mataire gave a flourish with his hands that Fero assumed was some kind of salute, and then began to lead Fero down the closest passageway. The walls were unadorned, the monotony of grey stone only broken up by wooden doors, evenly spaced along the right-hand wall.

 

“What is this place anyway?” asked Fero.

 

Mataire looked down at Fero. “I assumed Throndir would have- it’s the barracks.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero, warily.

 

“Here we are,” said Mataire, opening the last door in the corridor, “it’s not overly grand, but any cave in a storm, right?”

 

“Right,” said Fero.

 

Mataire hovered in the doorway for a moment. “I’ll be right outside when you’re done.”

 

“Okay, thanks,” said Fero.

 

Mataire pulled the door shut, and Fero turned to get a proper look at the room. It was as bare of decoration as the corridor outside, a low wooden chest and a bed the only furniture. The only object left out that he could see was a well-worn towel lying on the wooden chest that Fero assumed was for his use. The bed was neatly made, rough sheets the same colour as the walls pulled tight over the mattress. In the middle of the room was a large iron wash tub, the kind he hadn’t seen since he was a child, although this one had much taller sides. 

 

Steam rose from the water invitingly, and Fero leaned up to reach over the side and test the water. It was  _ amazingly _ warm, and he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling.

 

Fero looked around the room, considering how best to actually get all the way in the tub. It would be too embarrassing to ask Mataire for a step stool of some kind. Equally embarrassing would attempting to climb his way over the side after he’d stripped off, since it might make the tub tip over.

 

He shook himself, laughing a little as the more obvious answer occurred to him. Fero stripped off his clothes and then turned into a bird, fluttering up and landing in the water. He turned back into a halfling, stretching out and feeling his body warm up in the water. The warmth felt luxurious. He dunked his head under the water, holding his breath for as long as possible before he came back up for air.

 

Fero rubbed at his arms, watching as dirt swirled in the water. The water was cooling rapidly, and he had no desire to experience what sitting in cold water in Auniq was like. He turned back into a bird, flying clumsily out of the water and landing on the bed, hopping around and fluffing his feathers to get dry.

 

He turned back into a halfling, drying his still-damp hair with the towel. He should probably be getting back to Throndir, except … Fero sighed as he pulled on fresh clothes from his pack. It would be a lot of sitting still, which wasn’t his strong suit, and probably a lot of listening to old elves go on and on about how important Auniq was. Lem probably would have loved to hear all about it, if he were here.

 

Then again… Fero eyed the crack under the door. What Lem would love even more was if Fero could tell him what Auniq was like  _ now _ . He’d just do a quick trip around the city, collect a few stories for Lem, and then he’d be back in this room before they knew it.

 

He turned into a mouse, carefully wriggling out from under the door, making sure Mataire was looking to other way before he scurried along the side of the wall and around the corner. There were two ways to go - one led down a set of stairs, and the other led towards what looked like a kitchen. Picking the way that had the least elves, and therefore the least chance of getting caught, Fero headed down the stairs, turning into a small owl to help himself see in the darkness.

 

The stairs went down for a while, branching off on the first level for a weapons storage room before continuing down further. The room below it was larger, containing not just weapons but what looked like general storage. Clothing, uniforms, tools, maps, even some food, and then, right at the back, a padlocked chest. It was, in fact, the only item in the room locked away. Fero transformed back into a halfling. Everything here would be interesting to Lem, but  _ this _ was interesting to Fero.

 

He looked around, searching for something to break the lock with before finding an old iron mallet. Fero listened for a moment, ears straining to hear for any movement coming down the stairs. Once he was satisfied that no one was approaching, he swung the mallet, hitting the padlock and cracking it open. 

 

Fero froze, listening, but again there was no sound of anyone approaching. He pushed the lid of the chest up and went up onto his toes to look inside. 

 

Inside was a pile of armor, different to the armor the elves upstairs wore. Fero picked up of of the pieces and immediately saw why -- this armor was decorated with symbols of Samothes. It was, Fero realised, Hadrian’s missing armor.

 

He hadn’t been there when Hadrian had lost it, of course, but he’d heard about it. It would have been hard for him  _ not _ to hear about it, since Hadrian had complained about it about every ten minutes the week he’d gotten back.

 

“But the church just gave him  _ new  _ armor,” Fero had said one night, as they’d been coming back from dinner at Hadrian’s.

 

“You have to understand,” said Hella, “that was  _ his _ armor.”

 

“Well I  _ don’t _ understand, because as far as I can tell his new armor is exactly the same.”

 

“I think it’s probably more about the principle of the thing,” said Lem.

 

“Oh, not you too,” said Fero.

 

Hella made a face. “It’s sort of the principle of the thing, but it’s not about the armor. It’s more that they were able to take it from him.”

 

“But he just  _ got _ a  _ replacement _ ,” said Fero, “so  _ who cares _ if the snow elves took it.”

 

“The replacement isn’t the point,” sighed Hella, “I’d be pretty mad if someone took  _ my _ armor and didn’t give it back, even if I got a replacement later on. But maybe it’s different if you don’t wear armor.”

 

Fero had thought of Hella’s armor, where she’d left it piled in their room. Hella loved that armor, and Fero was growing to love it too. He was learning the dents and scratches by heart, discovering which were the marks of near misses and which matched up to the scars on Hella’s body. Thinking of someone taking Hella’s armor from her made something in his chest tense.

 

Fero grabbed her hand. Hella looked down, frowning, and Fero immediately tried to relax his posture.

 

“Your armor’s different,” said Fero. “I like  _ your _ armor.”

 

“I do, too,” said Hella. “Let’s hope I don’t have to replace it any time soon. And that Hadrian can get his back, so we can stop having to hear about it.”

 

“I  _ knew _ you were sick of it too!” said Fero, a bounce coming into his step.

 

Hella laughed, “I can feel sorry for him  _ and _ be sick of hearing about it.” She squeezed his hand. “And so could you.”

 

“For you I’ll  _ try _ ,” said Fero.

 

Fero shook off the memory, looking down at the symbol of Samothes on the armor. This would certainly be one way of getting Hadrian to stop complaining about it, and that was his only reason for wanting to bring the armor back. He’d get this armor out of Auniq somehow and bring it back to Hadrian, and then they’d never have to hear about it again.

 

It had nothing to do with the feeling of the remembered warmth of Hella’s hand in his, or of the look on her face as she talked about her armor and the many battles it had seen her through, or of the feeling that had gone through him when he imagined her without it. Hella would be proud of him, Lem too, for thinking of Hadrian. Choosing to do something nice with no ulterior motive. 

  
  


_ An extract from the report for the Council of Velas, as recorded by Throndir The Ranger; _

 

_ We have made our way to the city on Auniq without incident and in good time given weather conditions. Despite the issues that arose during my last visit to the city, we were let in without trouble thanks to the letter and sigil provided to me by the council.  _

 

_ I was given a chance to speak before the council of elders, while my companion, Fero Feritas, took the opportunity to explore the city. I hope that allowing him to do so will raise his spirits, as he has been growing quieter and more agitated during our journey. _

  
  


Despite their lack of diplomatic progress, spirits were high as they began their return to Velas. 

 

“In these matters, even securing the next meeting date can be a victory worth celebrating,” said Sabrina, after they stopped to make camp for the night.

 

“That sounds…” Hella considered it for a moment, “irritating.”

 

Sabrina laughed. “It can be. Diplomatic meetings are less like a battle and more like a drawn-out siege.”

 

“Hella’s not very good at sieges,” said Hadrian, sitting down next to Sabrina.

 

“I’m good at ending them,” said Hella.

 

“Well, this siege is ended for now without such drastic help,” said Sabrina, “and I, for one, will be very glad to get home and see our boy.”

 

Hadrian smiled softly. “As am I.”

 

“A quiet family dinner at home, I think, and then,” Sabrina leant in close to Hadrian, putting her hand on his knee to lean in close, saying something in a voice too quiet for Hella to hear, something that made the tips of Hadrian’s ears turn pink. Hella snickered.

 

“What about you, Hella?” said Sabrina, smiling, “A celebration of your own, perhaps?”

 

Hella smiled. “I suppose. I hadn’t really thought much about it.”

 

“Humor me,” said Sabrina, “what do you think you’ll do once we return?”

 

“Probably give a long report to the council,” said Hella, “and then go back to the inn, and…”

 

Hella trailed off. She couldn’t really picture any further than getting through the door, half of her expecting an empty room. She suddenly felt as though her armor was too small for her chest.

 

“And?” prompted Sabrina.

 

“And then I’ll go to sleep,” managed Hella. She stood up suddenly, the world blurring. “I’m going to go check the camp is secure. It needs doing.”

 

When Hella was young, still a child even by Ordenan standards, she had been pulled under by a riptide. She’d been on her own, something her parents had told her not to do, but Hella had never been good at following orders even then. It had been a hot day, and she’d been so happy to slip into the cool water, swimming out from shore. She didn’t notice at first that she was being pulled further and further out until she looked back and noticed that the factory on shoreline was a lot smaller that it should be.

 

She’d started swimming against the current, fighting panic as well as the waves. It had taken her hours to get back to shore, hours of panic rising in her throat, making it hard to breathe.

 

When she thought of returning to her room at the inn, she felt that feeling again, that struggling panic, making her breath rasp in her throat. She rested her back against a tree, one hand with a white-knuckled grip on her sword hilt as she faced away from the camp, trying to get her breathing back under her control.

 

“Hella?”

 

Hella turned quickly, drawing her sword. Hadrian held up both hands.

 

Hella lowered her sword. “Sorry, I thought… Sorry.”

 

“Sabrina thinks she offended you,” said Hadrian.

 

“She didn’t,” said Hella, “I’m fine.”

 

“Yes,” said Hadrian dryly, “I can see that.”

 

He leant back against the tree next to her, looking out into the dark forest.

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” said Hella.

 

“Hmm… sure,” said Hadrian non-committally.

 

They stood in silence for a while, listening to the quiet sounds of the camp behind them.

 

“I remember the first tip away from Sabrina after we began courting,” said Hadrian, “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, making myself ride away from her, and  _ keep _ riding away from her. It’s still one of the hardest things, even now, to make myself ride away from her, from Benjamin.”

 

“That’s not-” Hella bit her lip. “We’re riding back towards home now. Shouldn’t it be easier?”

 

“Sometimes that’s hard, too,” said Hadrian, “Many times, after battle… Sometimes I wondered if I would be the same man returning to her as I had been when I left. If there would be something changed about me that Sabrina would notice and find abhorrent. I wouldn’t have blamed her if there was.” He let out a quiet breath, not quite a sigh. “But she was always there when I returned. Just as Fero and Lem will be waiting there for you.”

 

Hella’s vision blurred again and she squeezed her eyes shut, tilting her head upwards. She could see the glittering of stars through the treetops.

 

“I pledged my sword to them,” said Hella, softly.

 

Beside her, Hadrian stilled. “You what?”

 

“After Commander Abolere and I fought, Lem and Fero were... I wanted them to know that I-” Hella swallowed hard. “I laid down my sword and pledged it to them.”

 

“Hella… That’s...” said Hadrian.

 

“Yeah,” said Hella, running a hand over the top of her hair, “Yeah, I know.”

 

Hadrian paused, gathering his thoughts. “What did they say, when you… when it happened?”

 

“They-” Hella remembered Fero trembling in her arms, Lem’s head resting on her shoulder, remembered feeling so relieved they were both alive and safe in her arms. “I think they understood.”

 

“Then they’ll be there waiting for you,” said Hadrian, his voice sure and certain. “Have faith in them.”

 

“Having faith isn’t exactly my strong suit,” said Hella.

 

Hadrian put a hand on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “Just try, Hella. You might surprise yourself.”

 

Hella looked down at her sword, remembering what it looked like laying at Lem and Fero’s feet. She had pledged her sword to them, and there was faith in that, a promise of  _ forever _ .

 

She sheathed her sword, gripping the handle to steady herself. “Let’s head back to camp.”

 

Hadrian nodded, eyeing her carefully.

  
  


_ (written on fresh parchment, carefully folded and tucked away at the bottom of Hella’s pack under a bloody shirt) _

 

_ Lem and Fero, _

 

_ Soon we will return to Velas, and to you. I have been a wanderer all my life, but I have never relished the thought of returning to a place as much as I do now. There is much I wish to tell you, but even more that I wish to hear -- how your days have been, down to the smallest details. I know you, Lem, will enjoy dwelling on those, and Fero will appreciate hearing them as much as I do (for all his complaining, I know that he loves to hear your voice as much as myself, no matter what the topic). _

 

_ The nights grow cold out here, but I am warmed by thoughts of you. They are not as lively as the real thing, but they will have to suffice until I am in your arms once again. _

 

_ Yours, _

_ Varal _

  
  


The cart-ride back to Velas was just as silent as their journey there, Fantasmo preferring to remain in the back reading, rather than speaking to Lem. Well, rather than speaking to Lem unless he felt the need to chastise Lem about something.

 

“Will you  _ stop _ humming that same tune? Even if it is one of your pattern magics, surely you can wait until we return to perform it.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” said Lem, “I didn’t realise I was doing it again. It’s not pattern magic, it’s- I suppose it’s just a song that’s gotten stuck in my head.”

 

“Well, try to keep it  _ within _ your head,” said Fantasmo, disappearing back into the wagon.

 

Lem sighed, propping his chin in his hand as he watched the path in front of them. A bird fluttered in the corner of his vision, swooping down and them back up into the trees. Lem sat straight up, hands tightening on the reins but -- no, it wasn’t Fero. They were still too far out from the city for it to be Fero.

 

That hadn’t stopped his mind from going to Fero every time he saw the flutter of wings though. No matter that it wasn’t possible for Fero to be miles and miles from Velas, no matter that it wasn’t possible for Fero to know the path they had taken. Every time, it caught at something in Lem’s heart, and he longed for it to be Fero.

 

Lem tapped out a rhythm on the seat beside him, matching the song in his head. The song had been looping around in his mind for hours, but he couldn’t place the origin. If he could figure it out, maybe he could get it out of his mind.

 

“You are doing it  _ again _ , King,” snapped Fantasmo.

 

“Sorry, sorry!” said Lem, “I’m just- I can’t figure out where it’s from. The song, I mean.”

 

Fantasmo was quiet for a moment, his face softening slightly.

 

“It’s an old Ordenan ballad, one of their story songs,” said Fantasmo after a moment, “I believe it is about a fisherman returning home after a storm. Perhaps your Ordenan fighter taught it to you.”

 

“Oh,” Lem managed.

 

“Yes, well,” said Fantasmo quickly, retreating back behind the curtain, “I would assume that is how you would know it.”

 

An old Ordenan ballad, yes, that was it. Lem remembered it now. Lem had asked Hella to sing the song, always curious to hear the different music patterns the different cultures created. He’d meant to write it down, but he’d let his pen rest against the page almost immediately, too caught up in the sight of Hella singing quietly as she carded her hand through Fero’s hair where he lay with his head in her lap, both of them lit by soft lamplight. 

 

Lem thought of that moment for miles. The thick trees around him became fields, and the fields became the outskirts of Velas.

 

They were quickly ushered into the council chambers as soon as they arrived. The council was slightly disappointed not to have the wealth of knowledge they believed they were promised, but seemed to be placated enough by the single page and even enthusiastic the chair. Lem tired not to feel  _ too _ smug, biting back a grin.

 

“Lem King, the Great Fantasmo, you have done us a great service by bringing us these relics back,” said Astrid, shaking their hands again.

 

Sabrina nodded, winking at Lem. “Yes, the chair is  _ particularly  _ interesting. I have no doubt that some local carpenters will learn much from such pre-Erasure techniques. You have our thanks, and of course, our payment.”

 

They were ushered out afterwards, to make way for Sabrina’s own recent diplomatic trip, as well as a report another group’s diplomatic journey from Auniq. Given what Lem knew of Hadrian, Throndir, and Fantasmo’s previous journey to Auniq, Lem didn’t envy whoever had that particular mission.

 

Fantasmo hesitated as they left, just inside the door. Lem paused, curious, and in no rush to meet the cold outside. Lem could see their breath appear in the cold air. 

 

“Lem,” said Fantasmo, inclining his head.

 

Lem nodded, squaring his jaw for a fight or perhaps just a talking down to. Mentally, he began to line up arguments, fortifying himself.

 

“I am not-,” and the elf exhaled sharply. “I am not a kind person. I am not an elf with many friends, I do not like to be upstaged, and I do not care for the... frivolities of carnal pleasures that others partake in.” His pointy ears turned a bit red, and here he turned to face the open door. “But perhaps your  _ partners _ give you the ability to see the beauty in the small things, and this helps you find useful things that  _ others _ would find useless. I can see why you value them.”

 

Lem raised his eyebrows. “Um. Thank you?”

 

Fantasmo awkwardly nodded, clutching his cloak tightly around him and walking out into the early afternoon air. 

  
  


_ An Extract of The Discoveries of The Great Fantasmo and Lem King; _

 

_ One piece of parchment with pre-Erasure writings, to be translated at a later time by The Great Fantasmo. _

 

_ One chair of pre-Erasure construction, the construction of which is to be analysed by Lem King, with assistance from Velasian craftspeople. The Church of Samothes has requested that the material of the chair not be damaged during this process. _

  
  


Throndir and Beladore were already waiting outside the barracks as Fero and Mataire came out. Kodiak barked happily at the sight of Fero. Throndir smiled, but it looked strained around the edges.

 

“How’d it go?” asked Fero.

 

“We have to leave.”

 

“Wow,” said Fero, “so pretty bad, huh?”

 

“Not as bad as last time,” said Beladore.

 

Throndir laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Well, at least there’s that.” He turned to Fero. “I guess I could have used your help being charming after all.”

 

“Sorry,” said Fero.

 

“It’s not your fault,” said Throndir, “I just wish I could have something more to take back to Velas.”

 

“Well,” said Fero slowly, “we could take back Hadrian’s armor.”

 

Throndir blinked, looking to Beladore. “That’s still here?”

 

Beladore looked at Fero suspiciously. “It is.”

 

“Beladore, I know it’s probably not in your control but-”

 

Beladore held up a hand. “Mataire?”

 

“Yessir?”

 

“Go down into storage and get the belongings Throndir and his friends left here last time.”

 

Mataire looked surprised, but disappeared back into the barracks all the same.

 

“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” said Throndir.

 

Beladore shrugged. “Those things don’t belong here. If the elders disagree with that so vehemently as to punish me, it will only be out of pettiness.”

 

“They probably will disagree then,” said Throndir.

 

Mataire pushed the chest out on a small cart. The cart had both wheels and ski treads, perfect for a journey through the snowy woods.

 

“Can you spare the cart?” asked Throndir.

 

“Send it back with the next group Velas sends,” said Beladore.

 

He walked them to the city gates. Fero walked ahead a little, giving them some space to say goodbye. 

 

Throndir was quiet as they walked away from the city, pushing the cart in front of them through the snow.

 

“I could turn into a husky and Kodiak and I could pull it,” offered Fero, “That might be easier.”

 

“Maybe,” said Throndir.

 

He seemed more than distracted. He seemed sad, looking down at the path in front of them, he shoulder bowed.

 

“So,” said Fero, after a moment, “How did it  _ really _ go?”

 

“Fine,” said Throndir, “They wouldn’t deal with me, but they gave their word that that they wouldn’t make a deal with Ordena, and they agreed to meet with a second delegation from Velas. As long as I’m not a part of it.”

 

Fero sucked air through his teeth. “That’s harsh.”

 

“It’s better than I was expecting, if I’m being honest,” said Throndir, “Last time was kind of a disaster.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “I heard.”

 

Throndir paused. “My dad is a part of the council.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero, “That’s… good?”

 

“He, uh, would only call me  _ diplomat _ . It’s like... he couldn’t even bring himself to have my name in his mouth.”

 

“That’s…” 

 

Fero trailed off, unable to find the words. To have someone erase your name from their vocabulary. His parents hadn’t even done that when he’d run away to the forest. Your name was  _ your name _ , your first and last possession in the world.

 

“Yeah,” said Throndir.

 

“Who cares about them, then,” said Fero, trying to sound cavalier. “Velas will always know your name. Velas is going to say your name so much that Auniq will be sick of hearing it.”

 

Throndir looked down at Fero, and then laughed. This time, it sounded a little more solid, so Fero took it as a win.

 

“And, hey, Throndir?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Fuck dads,” Fero said.

 

Kodiak barked in agreement. Throndir grinned, ruffling the fur on Kodiak’s head. As he moved to push the cart forward again, his shoulders seemed a little less burdened than before.

  
  


_ An extract from the report for the Council of Velas, as recorded by Throndir The Ranger; _

 

_ The elders of Auniq were not as receptive to me as the council of Velas were hoping, but they have agreed to hold off on any negotiations with Ordena until such time as a second diplomatic party can be sent from Velas. Such an agreement on their part is surely a good sign for future diplomatic relations between Velas and Auniq. _

 

_ On the suggestion of Fero Ferritas, we are bringing back some items that were taken from our group the last time we visited. I am sure that Hadrian (Sword of Samothes, etc) in particular will be glad to have these items returned to him. _

  
  


Lem walked back to their room at the inn, feeling tired and sore and  _ very _ ready to curl up next to Hella and Fero for the next week. The innkeeper raised a hand in greeting as Lem entered.

 

“I held your room for you,” said the innkeeper.

 

“Oh, um, thank you?” said Lem.

 

The innkeeper nodded. “The little guy said you’d be back within a fortnight, and he seemed like an okay sort. Don’t mind doing favours for okay sorts.”

 

Lem nodded, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. He felt himself smile too, at the mention of Fero. “He is.”

 

The innkeeper laughed, turning to serve someone, and Lem headed upstairs.

 

When he got to their room, Fero wasn’t there, but Lem wasn’t worried. After all, it was the middle of the day, and he certainly didn’t expect Fero to wait around in their room for him until he got back. In fact, with Hella due to arrive back in the city, Fero would probably be somewhere waiting for her. That was probably it. No need to worry.

 

Lem unpacked his clothing to be washed, placed his books back on the desk in order, and lit a small candle that he’d bought on their way back from the council chambers after Fantasmo pointed out to him. It smelled good, like the smell of abandoned libraries seeped into wax, and it filled the whole room with a vanilla miasma that made the room more inviting. Just the thing for welcoming people home.

 

Lem began to straighten the room out a little. Keeping things tidy wasn’t really Fero’s strong suit, although the room hadn’t gotten as disorderly as he would have thought during his and Hella’s time away. Perhaps Fero had attempted to do some tidying up in readiness for their homecoming. Lem smiled at the thought.

 

He went to the bed first, shaking out the bedsheets. There were more ink stains on the sheets than he remembered, long smudging lines streaked across the mattress. Lem frowned. He often wrote in bed, but he thought he’d been more careful than that. He’d ask one of the laundresses he knew if she had any tips for getting out ink easily.

 

There was a knock at the door, disrupting his train of thought.

 

“Come in,” Lem called, snapping the sheets down so that they floated smoothly down with little effort. 

 

Hella opened the door, hovering in the doorway as if she was afraid of startling him. 

 

“Hella! You’re back!” 

 

Lem grinned, moving towards her and hugging her around her neck, kissing her cheek. Hella relaxed into him, closing her eyes for a moment. She dropped her pack in the floor next to her, pushing the door shut behind her, returning his embrace.

 

“Hi, Lem, hello,” said Hella. 

 

Lem could feel the movements of her lips where her face was pressed into his neck. He breathed in, feeling the vibrations of her words through their chests. The rhythm of home.

 

“Hello,” said Lem, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

Hella’s hands tightened in the fabric of his shirt. “We finished debriefing and then I had to make sure all the diplomats got back to their homes safely, something about protocols- Anyway. How was Velas while I was away?”

 

“Oh, I don’t really know, I was also away from it, for a bit. Since you left I’ve been with Fantasmo, searching for old words.”

 

“Old words, huh?” said Hella, “That sounds… interesting?”

 

“Oh, it was,” said Lem brightly. “We were sort of underground, in catacombs? Classic adventurer stuff.”

 

Hella laughed. “Well I want to hear all about it, and what you- where’s Fero?”

 

Hella pulled away, her eyes scanning over the room warily.

 

Lem’s heart clenched in his chest. “Oh, I thought... I thought he was with you?” 

 

“Why would he be with  _ me _ ?” Hella said. “The two of you saw me leave, I just got back a few hours ago.” 

 

“Well he wasn’t here when I got here, so I thought you had gotten back before I did.” Lem reasoned, trying to keep fear from creeping into his voice. 

 

“I’m sure... I’m sure it’s fine,” Hella said, her eyes still scanning every little crevice as though Fero was going to pop out from a crack in the floor.

 

“Sure,” Lem nodded.

 

“Sure,” Hella repeated.

 

They smiled at each other.

 

“He’s probably just out in the city somewhere,” said Lem.

 

Hella let out a breath. “Of course he is. Can’t expect him to just sit around in here all day and wait for us.”

 

“Exactly,” said Lem. He hoped his tone of voice sounded more certain than he felt.

 

Hella began unpacking, slowly returning her things to their usual places around the room. When she thought Lem wasn’t looking, she peered behind the bedside table, as though she was expecting someone to be hiding there. 

 

She looped her swordbelt around the back of one of their chairs. When Hella turned her attention to another task, Lem eyed the sword warily for a moment. It stayed silent, keeping any secret knowledge it had about their current situation to itself.

 

Not that their current situation was anything to worry about, Lem reminded himself. Fero was never one for sitting still, of course he would be out and about rather than waiting for them. It had been foolish for Lem to think he would be. After all, Fero could certainly find something more interesting to do than waiting for them.

 

Lem saw a flash of movement by the window and turned sharply. A bird hopped along the roof of the inn for a moment and then, seeing him watching it, flew off. Hella looked at Lem, and he felt his face grow hot.

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “I thought it was Fero. I keep, um, I had been doing that all trip.”

 

Hella put a hand on Lem’s arm. “So have I.”

 

Lem looked to the window. “He does like to be a bird.”

 

Hella hummed in agreement, leaning her head against his shoulder, and he rested his head on her’s in response. They both looked out onto the orange rooftops and blue skies of Velas, neither of them speaking, watching birds fly in the distance.

  
  


_ To Do: 3OT _

 

_ -10A: brunch with Mari Kane to discuss herbs discovered on  journey  _

_ -11A: meet with Fantasmo, discuss schedule of sorts for dividing the workload of translation (hope he is open to discussion at all) _

_ -1p: continue modern history - perhaps more of the Garden district? _

_ -3p: a council meeting, interviewing woodworkers for studying the Chair _

_ -5p: interviewing cloth dyers for the beginning of unraveling (haha!) the mystery of the tapestry _

_ -7p: dinner with Ren & co: we are to bring potatoes _

  
  


“Hey Thorondir,” Fero asked, quietly walking behind him in step with Kodiak, “did you ever feel lonely in Anuiq?”

 

Throndir looked thoughtful for a moment, pausing to point out a fallen branch so that Fero wouldn’t trip over it.

 

“I had friends, of course. And my family. What more could you want?” Throndir looked down at Fero. “Were you lonely, Fero? Where you grew up?”

 

Fero continued on as if Throndir hadn’t asked. “I mean, it’s so quiet. There’s not a lot of small animals, no birds, no flowers. The trees don’t have leaves!”

 

Thorondir nodded. “My favorite part of leaving was seeing flowers. All those colours… well, I suppose it’s too cold for them in Anuiq.”

 

Fero smiled. “And talking to bears is cool, right?”

 

“They just want to eat berries in peace! Who among us cannot relate!”

 

Kodiak barked happily, and Thorondir laughed. Fero grinned, looking fixedly ahead.

 

Fero wasn’t distracted by how Thorondir’s laugh was nice, but didn’t sound anything like Hella’s. He wasn’t even thinking about how nice Lem’s green skin would look, reflected off the new white snow, if he were here. Fero wasn’t thinking, not even a little bit, about how warm it would be when he arrived back at his room, with a big fire and a real bed and two people to surround him and warm the cold he had begun to feel in the marrow of his bones. 

 

He wasn’t thinking of those things even a little bit, which is why he couldn’t blame those thoughts when he tripped over something and fell into another ditch. He lay still for a moment, trying to get his breath back, looking up at the grey sky above. He could feel the snow and slush soaking into his clothes.

 

“Fero?” came Throndir’s voice from above him, “Fero!”

 

Fero could see Kodiak sniffing around the edge of the ditch. He lifted himself up onto his elbows, slipping a little in the mud.

 

“Hey! Kodiak! Hey! I fell in a ditch again!” Fero called. “You want to actually give me a hand this time?”

 

Throndir’s head popped over the side of the ditch. “This time?”

 

Despite the mud sinking it’s icy fingers into his skin, Fero felt his face heat up. “Shit. Kodiak, you’re off the hook. Yeah, I, uh, maybe kinda fell into a ditch on the way to Auniq.”

 

Throndir looked to Kodiak, who tilted his head to one side.

 

“Don’t be mad,” said Fero, “I told him not to tell you.”

 

Throndir smiled gently. “Well, I can’t fault him for that. He’s a good secret-keeper, aren’t you boy?”

 

Kodiak snuffled against Throndir’s hand and then disappeared, returning moments later with some rope.

 

“Thanks buddy,” said Throndir.

 

Throndir threw the rope down to Fero, helping to pull him out. Throndir put a steadying hand on Fero’s shoulder once he’d made it up, a look of concern on his face.

 

Fero looked away. “Thanks.”

 

“Fero-” Whatever Throndir had been going to say, he changed his mind, breaking off with a sigh. “We should make camp.”

 

Fero fidgeted, trying not to look as cold and wet as he felt. “Aw, come on, it’s still light!”

 

“Yes, but you’re soaked,” said Throndir, “The cold can be very dangerous. Better to lose a few hours getting warm than to walk an hour to freeze.”

 

None of Fero’s complaining could shift Throndir, and he quickly set up the tent, pushing Fero inside to change. This change of clothes was less welcome than the last one - the clothes were dry, yes, but they were also covered in the mud of his last visit to the bottom of a ditch. He shook out the clothes as best he could, wrinkling his nose as he put them on.

 

Throndir did his best to hide a grin as Fero came out of the tent. He already had a small fire going, warming his hand over the flames.

 

Fero sat down next to Throndir with a sigh. “I think this forest hates me.”

 

“I don’t think it’s fair to entirely blame this on the forest,” said Throndir.

 

“No,” said Fero, “it’s fair. And I used to live in a forest, so I should know. Although that forest was pretty different to this.”

 

“Back in Rosemerrow?” said Throndir.

 

Fero nodded, looking at the fire. “Yeah.”

 

“I guess it would be pretty different over there.”

 

“Very different,” said Fero, “Although that was a pretty long time ago now, I guess.”

 

“And Lem was there,” said Throndir, giving Fero a side-long look.

 

“For some of it,” said Fero, not looking away from the fire, “But I lived alone for a while before that, after I left Rosemerrow.”

 

“Oh,” said Throndir, “Sorry.”

 

Fero looked up. “It wasn’t like- I mean, I could go back, if I wanted. I just… didn’t want to be there any more.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Fero shrugged. “Nothing in particular. I just didn’t want to be around anyone for a while, and the forest seemed like a good way to do that.”

 

“So why’d you stop?”

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, you live in Velas now,” said Throndir.

 

“I met Lem, and he… He left the New Archives a little while after I met him, and so I…” Fero swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “He needed someone to lead him out of the forest, so I went with him, and by the time we got to Velas, we-” Fero looked down at his hand, twisted in his lap, “Well. I didn’t feel much like going back to the forest after that.”

 

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the crackling fire.

 

“We’ll be out of the forest and back in Velas soon, I promise,” said Throndir, “the journey home always feels shorter.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, forcing a smile.

 

“Fero…” began Throndir.

 

“Listen, I’m kind of tired,” said Fero, “I think I’m just going to turn in. You’re okay with taking first watch, right?”

 

“Of course,” said Throndir.

 

Fero turned to go into the tent.

 

“Fero,” said Throndir.

 

Fero paused, his hand on the tent flap.

 

“You know, if you ever need to talk about anything-”

 

“I’m fine,” said Fero quickly, “I’m just tired, okay?”

 

“Okay,” said Throndir, not sounding convinced.

 

Fero lay down, but he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t ever  _ need _ to but, as with eating, he could do it if he wanted to. It was an okay way to pass the time, especially when he got to wake up in a warm bed next to Lem and Hella. Tonight, as he stared up at the tent canopy above him feeling the cold air make it’s way through his blanket despite his best efforts, sleeping didn’t feel like that much of an enjoyable activity. 

 

He hadn’t thought about the time before he’d met Lem in a long while, the stretch of time between leaving Rosemerrow and that moment faded in the back of his mind. It had been different then, wandering alone through the forest, first as a halfling and then as an animal, seeing no one, speaking to no one. 

 

He’d been happy like that, hadn’t he? He had definitely never wanted to go back, he remembered that much, moving deeper and deeper into the forest as Rosemerrow stretched outwards. Any time he heard a halfling voice, he made it a point to move whatever camp he had further away.

 

There came a point where he’d moved so far away from Rosemerrow that he ended up closer to the New Archives. Which was, of course, how he first saw Lem, and that was… everything was different after that. Lem’s voice was much nicer to hear that the voices of Rosemerrow. It seemed only natural to want to follow it, the easiest thing in the world. Even when Lem wanted them to leave the forest. Even when Lem wanted them to take a job that involved getting on a stupid boat to chase down pirates or visit dumb towers.

 

Of course, if they’d never taken those jobs, they would have never met Hella. Fero’s chest felt tight at the thought, unravelling the moments in his life in his mind, the choices that had led his first to Lem and then to Hella, and then to the three of them, together.

 

Hadrian had said that on his journey their group had encountered doors into other worlds, worlds like a twisted mirror of their own. There might be a world where he moved away from Lem’s voice in the forest instead of towards it, a world where he lived in solitude still. There was a past version of himself that would have found that isolation to be ideal. Lying by himself in the cold darkness, Fero couldn’t imagine anything worse.

 

It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t remember why he’d felt that way, his frustration about Rosemerrow felt like a raw nerve even now. It was more the thought of having to go without -- without the sharp curve of Hella’s grin, without the soft sound of Lem humming to himself, without their hands on his skin, the thousands of small moments that made up a day by their side. The thousands of small moments that he was missing right now, by being apart from them.

 

Fero rolled onto his side, watching the flickering firelight through the walls of the tent.  _ Soon _ , he told himself,  _ soon they would be back in Velas _ . _ The journey home always feels shorter. _

 

Soon he would be able to hear all about the moments that made up the too-many days they had been travelling away from each other. As long as they had returned by the time Fero and Throndir returned. 

 

Fero squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish that particular train of thought. Of course, trying to sweep the thought away meant he touched on them, thoughts of how quickly diplomatic ties could sour, thoughts of how quests into unknown caves were fraught with unknown dangers. 

 

Following along behind those thoughts was the one he had been trying to dodge most of all -- that sometimes the opposite was true, and that people on journeys sometimes found good reasons not to return. They found places they loved better. They found  _ people _ they loved better. They never returned, and were happier for it. 

 

And the people they left behind were left with too-empty beds in too-big rooms.

 

Fero wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, still feeling the chill in the air. The bedroll under him did a poor job at protecting him from the icy ground. He turned this way and that, his thoughts chasing each other in circles for what felt like hours.

 

Finally, he gave up the pretense of sleep, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he pushed his way out of the tent. Throndir was slumped partly over Kodiak, fast asleep. Kodiak cracked one eye open then, having assessed Fero as no threat, closed it again.

 

Fero stoked the fire, poking the embers to give Throndir more warmth. He crept past the still-sleeping Throndir, stopping only to pull Throndir’s blanket back over his shoulders where it had fallen to the ground. 

 

He walked a little way off from the camp, tying his blanket around his neck like a cape so that he had two hands to scurry up a nearby tree. He picked a solid-looking branch and settled against the trunk, tucking the blanket around himself. 

 

Fero sat and watched as the sun began to rise over the the too-still forest. He’d spent many nights like this when he had been alone in the forest, although his time in there hadn’t been so cold. But perhaps it only felt that way because he’d gotten used to the warmth of two others beside him.

  
  


_ (Preserved in the New Archives files of Internal Correspondence) _

 

_ Archivist High Council,  _

 

_ I request that the Archives, where I have been a dutiful member of for my whole life, allow a non-Archivist to be granted a stay. They will stay with me, and I will dutifully split my rations with them if the High Council feels such actions are necessary. I hope that the High Council allows an outsider to stay within our Archives for the foreseeable future. They have agreed to help with manual labor that allows our lives to be devoted to revealing pre-Erasure histories. I await your answer. _

 

_ Junior member Lem King _

 

_ PS: He has been sleeping on the roof of the entrance cave. Please, it is cold out there. _

  
  


It was past sunset before Hella let herself get truly worried. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. That was when she started to voice her worries, just a little. She’d already cleaned her armor twice, and there was only so many times she could do that before it became a waste of supplies.

 

Lem had been going through his books during the afternoon, picking them up and reading from a little before putting them down again. She supposed he was sorting them somehow. Normally such a process calmed him, but his movement were becoming a little agitated. Lem’s fluttering hand movements as he reached for a piece of parchment reminded her of Fero, just a little.

 

“Do you think-” began Hella.

 

“I wonder if Fero-” said Lem, at the same time.

 

They both fell silent. Hella huffed a laugh and Lem smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“It’s- I’m being silly,” said Lem, “I- it’s just strange to be away from him for so long, I suppose, and it’s making it seem like more than it is.”

 

“We  _ have _ spent almost every moment together since we got back from the tower,” said Hella thoughtfully.

 

“I suppose we have,” said Lem, smiling.

 

Hella smiled back, but as they looked away from each other she felt it fade from her face. She looked to the window. The sun had slipped below the horizon, it’s light a thin line of pale orange. Snow had begun to fall, the flakes catching the lamplight as they fell past the still-open window. It would be a cold night.

 

Hella stood up. “I’m going out.”

 

Lem looked up at her, surprised. “What? Now?”

 

“Yes,” said Hella, “I’m- I’ll be back soon.”

 

“What if Fero comes back?”

 

Hella kissed the top of Lem’s head. “Then say hello for me.”

 

She grabbed her sword and pulled on her coat, rushing out before Lem could ask any more questions. She hurried through the city, her coat pulled tight around herself, towards Hadrian's house.

 

The sun had set completely by the time she arrived, and there was no candlelight in the front windows of Hadrian’s house. Still, Hella knew they would be home. They wouldn’t welcome to interruption, but they would  _ definitely _ be home.

 

Hella banged on the door until Sabrina answered, an elaborately-embroidered silken robe wrapped around her. Sabrina’s annoyance quickly changed to surprise at the sight of Hella.

 

“Hella, what-”

 

“We can’t- we don’t know where Fero is,” said Hella, feeling as though she was speaking too fast but unable to slow herself down, “I thought he was with Lem, but Lem went somewhere with Fantasmo, and now Fero’s gone, and we don’t- we don’t-” She broke off,  pressing a hand to her mouth.

 

“Why don’t you come inside?” said Sabrina gently.

 

Sabrina ushered Hella into the lounge room, pushing Hella’s shoulder to get her to sit down. Hella twisted her hands in her lap.

 

“I’m going to get Hadrian, okay?” said Sabrina, her voice still soft, “Just- stay right here, I’ll be right back.”

 

Hella nodded, looking down at her closed fists. Time slowed to a crawl as she waited. Her body itched to  _ move _ , to do  _ something _ , but she wasn’t sure what else she  _ could _ do. She couldn’t look through the whole city by herself. Fero could be anywhere. 

 

Hadrian entered, his shirt backwards, Sabrina following behind him. Hella stood up quickly as they entered.

 

“Hadrian-”

 

Hadrian held up a hand, guiding Hella back down into the seat so that she was sitting in the middle of him and Sabrina.

 

“Sabrina tells me that Fero is missing,” said Hadrian, “Tell me what happened. Slowly.”

 

Hella took a deep breath. “I got back to our room after we dropped the diplomats off, and Lem was there without Fero. He said that the council gave him a mission after I left and that he’d had to leave Fero behind. We waited,” despite her best efforts, she began to speak faster, “we waited  _ all day _ , and Fero’s still not back and I don’t-”

 

Sabrina covered Hella’s twisting hands with her own much warmer ones. “Perhaps he’s just gone out for the night.”

 

Hella chewed her lip. “Maybe. But he knew I was getting back today. I thought…” she looked down at her lap again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought he’d be waiting.”

 

There was a pause and then Hadrian stood up. Hella looked up at him.

 

“I’ll go ask around, see if anybody’s heard something,” said Hadrian.

 

“I’ll come with you,” said Hella quickly.

 

“Hella-” said Hadrian.

 

“I can’t just sit here, Hadrian,” snapped Hella, “I’m coming with you.”

 

Hadrian sighed, but retired to his room to properly dress; it was quite cold for the early afternoon. Sabrina talked to fill the room, Hella’s anxiety starting to seep into the cushions of the living room furniture. 

 

“Your Lem King really is something, isn’t he? He carried a big chair from a cave under the water line! It had the most amazing artwork too: Samothes’ great army for before the Erasure! The things we could learn from this will be...”

 

Hadrian entered the room, bending to kiss quickly Sabrina before nodding to Hella. She stood, bouncing on the balls of her feet with nervous energy.

 

They swept most of the Sun district, speaking with anyone that Hadrian knew from the council as well as any halfling shops that Hella knew that Fero sometimes would visit. Nobody had seen him in a week or so. Hella had grown more quiet, drawing into herself as every shop owner shook their head. Hadrian, too, seemed to be growing more frustrated. 

 

They returned late in the night to Hadrian’s house. Hella felt even further away from finding where Fero might have gone to than when they had left it. Sabrina promised her, clasping Hella’s hands in her’s tightly, that tomorrow she would use more official channels to get a search party going. Hella nodded, silent. 

 

Hadrian put both of his hands on Hella’s shoulders, waiting until she looked up to meet his eyes. “If he doesn’t come back, I will  _ make  _ him come back to you.” 

 

Hella nodded again, and gave a small smile, before beginning the lonely walk back to the inn.

 

Her stomach twisted itself into knots on her walk home, her mind conjuring an empty room. She had built up the idea of the two of them being there for her when she got back. Fero gone was horrible, but Lem being gone too was… if that was the sight that greeted her on her return, she wasn’t sure what she would do. This wasn’t something she could draw her blade against.

 

But Lem, beautiful Lem, reliable Lem, Lem with the eye of an Archivist (and an attention to detail that made cleaning day torturous but other activities more enjoyable)  _ was  _ there. He looked up as she entered, sitting on the floor, leaning against a bedpost. 

 

“No luck,” Hella said, trying to sound more optimistic than her words or general demeanor would indicate.

 

Lem shook his head, and moved a piece of paper towards her, looking away from her. Hella unhooked her sword and took of her jacket, laying both of them in the chair closest to the door. She sat down next to Lem, leaning against the wall so that they weren’t touching but that she could reach him easily enough if needed. She could feel the warmth of his shoulder radiating out against her own.

 

“Hey, Lem, is everything okay?” Hella tried again, showing him both of her palms in an attempt to have him reach out to her. 

 

Instead of joining their hands together, he handed her the paper he had just flattened out. It was covered in ink splotches, as though the author was unused to writing, some words completely illegible.

 

_ Lem and Hella _

 

_ Sorry to ----- on such short --------. I’ll ------- be back ---------. I kept t-- room just in case --------. Sorry abou-------. _

 

_ Fero.  _

 

The paper began to shake in her hands, and it took Hella a moment to realise that it was because her hands were shaking.

 

“This... he? Lem, what is this?” Hella said, trying to keep a calm voice and not succeeding at all.

 

Lem shook his head, picking up another flattered paper to read aloud. 

 

“ _ Dear Lem and Hella _ and then there’s some ink here,  _ don’t worry _ more ink  _ about me _ .  _ I promise I’ll _ and that’s the whole letter.” Lem looked up her, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Hella, there’s like six of these, all about him... leaving. He left. He left, Hella.”

 

The panic Hella had been slicing at for days finally slipped through her guard, clawing its way up her throat. But there was nothing to fight here, and flying away was what she was worried about in the first place.

 

“Where would he go, Lem?” Hella asked.

 

She tensed, ready to put her jacket and sword back on, ready to fight an army and walk across the continent to find him. Lem nodded, seeming to already know what Hella was planning without her having to say anything. 

 

“He’d be in the forest, Hella. He told me, once, that the only reason I was able to find him the first time was that  _ he  _ found  _ me _ . We could spend the rest of our lives in the forest without finding him, Hella. We could die without ever getting a trace.” 

 

Lem began carefully putting the letters in between the pages of an old journal, to preserve the last reminder of his best friend. His face was carefully blank.

 

Hella nodded, blinking back tears. If Lem wasn’t going to cry at the idea of losing Fero, then Hella wouldn’t either. 

 

“What do we do?” she asked.

 

Lem smiled a small smile, and reached out to hold her hand. She took it gratefully. His hand felt like second nature in her’s, grounding her.

 

“We go find him,” said Lem simply.

 

Hella nodded again.

 

“But first- are you hungry?” Lem asked. 

 

Hella nodded. “Not everything changes in a month. Can’t start a journey on an empty stomach.”

 

Lem laughed. He reached out at squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

  
  


_ (a letter, faded with age and mostly forgotten, tucked between the pages of an old journal) _

 

_ Hadrian, _

 

_ I think I have found a woman that you would like to betrothe. I have spoken with her family about the beginnings of a courtship. You are to meet after services the next weekend. She is not taller than either of us, has long blonde hair, and I think her laugh will remind you of church bells. She also just wants one son, and I think your guardians will agree that your blood and her regal blood will mingle well to keep Samothes prosperous. _

 

__ _ Your friend, _

_ Hella Varal of Ordena _

 

_ (on the top left corner of the page was a small mark that Hella used to indicate that she had left a second message not to be read by Hadrian’s guardians, to be viewed by heating the paper over a lamp) _

 

_ It’s me again. Her name is Sabrina, she is hilarious, she makes amazing oatmeal cookies. We actually met at a bar in the fish district last night where it began with me buying her a drink and ended with her kissing me  _ _ not  _ _ on the cheek. I tell you this because  _ I know you, Hadrian.  _ We have not become friends over campfires discussing  _ battle strategies _. I just wish for your happiness, old friend, and I am sure that she will be a bright star in both of our night skies.  _

 

_ Your ear and blade when you need it, _

_ Hella _

  
  


Fero stopped by Hadrian’s house on his way back to the inn. He wanted to see Hadrian’s face as Fero returned his old armor. It had nothing to do with avoiding the sight of the inevitable empty room that was waiting for him back at the inn.

 

Benjamin opened the door. The young boy was maybe a half foot shorter than Fero, tall for his age. Fero wasn’t all that self-conscious about his height, but he didn’t love the reminder about it speaking with children gave him.

 

“Hey, Benji, right?” said Fero, trying for a charming smile, “Is your dad home? I got him something on my travels.”

 

“You’re muddy.” Benjamin said, not moving from the doorway.

 

Fero laughed a hollow laugh. “Yeah, kid, hey: Be careful around snow in the woods. Will you go get your dad?” 

 

“ _ Dad _ ,” yelled Benjamin, calling out into the house as he walked away from the door, “One of Aunt Hella’s...”

 

His voice became muffled as he went into another room. Fero felt a wave of tiredness sweep over him, coming from his chest and flowing over his body. Hadrian arrived before Fero could surrender to it. It was probably just as well, he’d had enough of falling into physical ditches let alone having to drag himself out of an an emotional one.  

 

“Fero?! What are you doing here! Does Hella know you’re here?”

 

“I just got back from Auniq-” Fero said.

 

“You were in Auniq?” said Hadrian, “No wonder we couldn’t find you.”

 

Fero ignored his remarks, wanting to savour the feeling of his next reveal. “-and I convinced my great friends there to give me your stuff back!” 

 

Fero pointed to the small cart he’d left just past the walkway to the house, which gleamed with Hadrian’s armor in the light of the setting sun. Hadrian looked between the armor and Fero, then back to the armor again. Fero basked in the surprised expression on Hadrian’s face.

 

Sabrina walked up from behind Hadrian, and laughed delightedly at the image. She went up on tiptoes, her arms around Hadrian’s shoulders.

 

“Fero, this is amazing! Thank you!” said Sabrina, grinning widely. “Hadrian has been telling me for  _ months _ how much he misses his old armor. Isn’t that right, Hadrian?”

 

Sabrina looked to Hadrian, a big smile on her face. Hadrian looked towards Fero, who couldn’t help but give Hadrian a small, smug smile of his own. Hadrian looked back at his wife, before turning back to Fero and giving him a tight smile.

 

“Fero, thank you. Samothes truly was with you-”

 

“And Throndir,” interjected Fero.

 

Hadrian’s smile looked slightly less forced. “He was with you _and_ _Thorondir_ on your mission.”

 

“Maybe he was. You know,  _ our _ trip was of a diplomatic nature too. I was very helpful, the snow elves loved me and trusted me immediately.” Fero continued, smile growing as Hadrian’s smile looked more strained.

 

“That’s amazing, huh. Huh. Well, thank you, Fero, you can just wheel the cart around back, I’m sure you have to be going.”

 

“Oh, that cart looks heavy,” said Sabrina, “You should help Fero.”

 

“Oh no, it’s fine,” said Fero.

 

“Fero wheeled it all the way here, I’m sure he can wheel it a few paces more,” said Hadrian.

 

“And  _ I’m _ sure that doing it would be easily with your help,” said Sabrina. 

 

Hadrian let out a breath through his nose. “Fine.”

 

Sabrina kissed Hadrian on the cheek. “It will take five minutes. Dinner, and anything else the night brings, can wait five minutes.”

 

Hadrian’s face softened. “You’re right.”

 

“Of course I’m right,” said Sabrina. 

 

She turned to Fero and blew him a kiss, and Fero made a show of catching it, putting a hand over his heart. Sabrina laughed, then headed back inside. Hadrian stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

 

“Fero, I give you my honest thanks for the armor return,” said Hadrian, and they headed towards the cart, “but you don’t have to try so hard to put my wife on your team.” 

 

Hadrian’s brittle smile had become more solid as he ran a hand over his armor, his fingers running over the small nicks and bumps that proved that it was his actual, old armor. 

 

“Sure I do, Hadrian,” said Fero, mimicking Hadrian’s overly-friendly tone, “because I don’t like you very much.” 

 

Hadrian sighed. “Yes, I know. I’ve really been trying my best to be kind to you, for Hella’s sake if nothing else. Also my wife actually does like you. I think she appreciates that you eat her cooking even though you don’t have to eat at all.”

 

“She’s a good cook!” Fero countered, as they began to push the cart around Hadrian’s house and into the back garden. “It would be rude of me not to appreciate it.”

 

“I highly doubt you have ever avoided being rude in your life,” said Hadrian.

 

“Wait, you think it upsets Hella that I don’t like you?” asked Fero, looping back to the beginning of Hadrian’s point.

 

Hadrian nodded, starting to sort out his armor from any personal belongings. “Of course it upsets her. She’s my oldest friend and she doesn’t talk about it much, but I’m hers. Hell, she’s basically family to me, she introduced me to Sabrina, she’s Benjamin’s godmother. And the way she thinks about you, and Lem...? I’ve never seen her like this. She’s so....” 

 

Fero gripped the edge of the cart, white knuckled, as Hadrian trailed off. His heart was beating double-time in his chest.

 

Hadrian looked to where the sun had just set, and then back towards Fero again. “She’ll put up her sword in front of anyone for enough money, that’s always been her way. But to lay her sword  _ down _ ? That makes you something important.” 

 

Fero nodded. This was a peace offering of sorts from Hadrian, and so Fero probably should have left things there. Then again, he’d fallen in a ditch twice in one trip so it couldn’t be said that he’d ever learned from his mistakes.

 

“I don’t like that you killed Jericho.”

 

Hadrian sighed, not looking up, “Do you think I do? I hate that I had to do that. But it was the will of Samothes, and I am his sword.”

 

“And the skeleton man?”

 

Hadrian looked up, raising his eyebrows. “The skeleton man? Are you still hung up on that after all this time?”

 

“So because it happened a while ago I’m just supposed to forget you did it?”

 

Hadrian sighed again. “Look, I won’t punch first, but I’ll punch hard. And I won’t apologise for that.”

 

Fero threw his hands up, pacing in a circle around Hadrian. “How can you be so detached about all of this?! You’ve  _ killed _ people, Hadrian, and it doesn’t even  _ register _ with you! Doesn’t that scare you? Don’t you worry that you’re never going to be able to stop?!”

 

“You have to kill people sometimes, Fero. Sometimes you have to grow up and realize what’s important in life and dedicate yourself to making them more important than your safety and your mental well-being, and hope that at the end of the day you can keep yourself together enough to go home, and read your son a bedtime story.”

 

Hadrian sighed, looking tired as he rubbed a hand over his hair. “I do that for Sabrina, for Benjamin, and for our God-King Samothes, and I would lay down my life for them. Is there anything you’re willing to die for, Fero Ferritas? Anything you would willingly give your whole life to?” 

 

Hadrian had been yelling, but here he spoke just above the wind. “I don’t like you that much either, Fero, because I don’t think you’re willing to give up for Hella what she’s given up for you.”

 

“You don’t know me at all.” Fero had meant to yell it, but he only had voice for a whisper. His voice shook as he spoke, and he felt his face heat up.

 

Hadrian picked up what looked like another piece of armor, a glove with stone filled into the arm, and sighed. “Then prove it.”

 

Fero, unable and unwilling to prove anything else, left without another word. 

  
  


_ (a letter, yellowed with age, pressed between the pages of The Book Of Samothes) _

 

_ Sabrina, _

 

_ I know we have only been in this courtship for a few months, and I know that you have no desire to be with a man who leaves with armies - you were right to say that you never know if he’s to come back safe and healthy, if at all. There are some men I fight with that I fear will not return. _

 

_ Remember that Samothes is watching over us, both of us, during our daily duties. He will bring me home to you every time, I am sure of this. I feel his assurances to me in the rising of the sun meeting the sky each morning.  _

 

_ I miss your cooking, and the laugh your father makes when I spill soup on myself, and your fingers wrapped around my wrist. _

 

__ _ Be safe, my love, until I return home.  _

__ _ Hadrian, Sword of Samothes _

 

_ PS: I prayed to Samothes for your safety and well-being today, and asked for Guidance. The world felt brighter, somehow. The flowers felt sharper and healthier, and I believe that this is a positive omen. Perhaps speak with Lucius next time you see him?  _

  
  


Fero nodded to the innkeeper, who shook his head and smiled at the mud covering the small man. “You better wash up!” 

 

Fero waved in the direction of the voice, slowly heading up stairs to his too-big bed. 

 

He threw the door open, and inside, Hella and Lem had been sitting at the table, their feet touching, eating a warm broth. 

 

Lem stood up quickly, knocking the spoon into the bowl and the bowl onto the floor. Hella stood up more swiftly, but her hands still shook as she clenched them into fists.

 

“Fero!” Lem cried.

 

“ _ Fero, _ ” Hella breathed.

 

“I have something very important to tell you!” said Lem.

 

“I was waiting for both of you to get back to tell you-. Oh” said Hella, “You go first.”

 

“No, no. You, I insist.”

 

“No, please, you got back first.”

 

Fero stood frozen in the doorway, one hand still on the doorknob. 

 

“Oh.” His voice sounded like it was coming from very far away. “You came back.”

 

The two of them switched focus to Fero, who had not moved from the doorway. 

 

Hella covered her mouth with one hand as her face crumpled. “ _ We _ came back, what about you? Where have you  _ been _ ?”

 

In a few quick steps Lem was in front of him, picking him up in a hug that would’ve crushed anybody not travelling with a giant dog for the past week. Fero pressed his face into Lem’s shirt, breathing in the familiar smell. Old paper and dirt, and Hella.

 

“You’re  _ covered  _ in mud, Fero, what  _ happened  _ to you?” Lem cried, leaving streaks of dirt on his face as he wiped at his eyes.

 

“I fell down,” said Fero. His throat felt too tight to say much more. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

Hella stood a little bit behind Lem, as though in line waiting for her turn for a hug and assessment of Fero’s wellbeing. Fero felt Lem shift his grip on Fero to pull Hella forward. As she stepped forward, she pushed the door closed behind them, so that Lem’s back was pressed against the door. She patted along the part of Fero she could reach, as though checking for injuries underneath the drying mud. 

 

Fero leaned back into her touch, closing his eyes. He was bracketed by them on both sides now, Lem in front of him and Hella behind him. They were both here, and they’d both been waiting for him. They’d missed him, and for the first time Fero considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe,  _ they  _ had had missed  _ him  _ just as much as  _ he  _ had missed  _ them _ . He looked up at them both, blinking away sudden tears.

 

“You need a bath!” Hella’s laugh sounded watery.

 

“I’ll take a bath every day if you two promise to stay with me forever,” Fero blurted out, finally remembering that he had a voice underneath all of the emotions and mud that he was covered in.

 

Fero blinked twice, and then covered his mouth with his hands. His stomach dropped. Hella’s eyes had gone very wide, and Lem’s mouth was slightly agape.

 

“I didn’t- I don’t mean- Of course you guys can leave on journeys and stuff, I’m sorry. I just-”

 

Lem kissed him, unconcerned with the amount of mud getting on his own clothes. “I told you I’d always come back to you. I’ll  _ always  _ come back to you.”

 

“We thought you  _ left  _ us!” Hella cried, “We thought you ran out to the woods and Lem said we would die looking for you and I said that  _ that would be okay with me _ , because how could we just leave you there and not  _ try _ -” 

 

Hella cut herself off, kissing Fero hard and deep. Fero felt warmth spread through his for the first time since he’d returned to Velas, his toes curling with the heat of it. She leaned over Fero to kiss Lem, transferring streaks of mud between them. Fero reached up, trying the wipe them away. Hella grabbed his hand, kissing it and holding it out for Lem to kiss. Lem did, slowly. Fero felt Hella’s sharp intake of breath behind him.

 

Fero couldn’t let a good moment pass. You had to take your moments of courage where you could find them. He took a deep breath.

 

“Give me your names; take mine too,” he said, looking between the both of them quickly. “Make me a Varal and a King. I want people to know how I feel about you as soon as they hear my name. I want you two to always know that I could  _ never _ leave you. I want a part of me to be with you, even when we’re apart.”

 

“Yes,” Lem breathed, kissing him again. “Yes, of course, Fero. Whatever you want.” 

 

Lem pressed a kiss to Fero’s forehead, his right cheek, his left hand, his lips. Wherever he could reach.

 

“Varal isn’t much of a name to be proud of, but it’s yours, if you want it.”

 

Fero twined his and Hella’s hands together, squeezing. “It’s  _ your _ name. I’d be proud to wear any name that belongs to you.” 

 

Hella nodded. “Okay. Okay.” 

 

Fero kissed her, biting her lip to keep her in place, and Hella pressed forward, pushing them both against Lem who groaned softly at the friction.

 

“We should really get you out of these wet things,” said Hella, her hands going to the hem of Fero’s shirt.

 

“Yes,” said Lem, covering Hella’s hands with his own, “that’s what they say to do isn’t it, to stop you from catching cold?”

 

“Well, if that’s what they say,” said Fero.

 

Hella pulled Fero’s shirt over his head, and Lem ran his hands over Fero’s chest. Or maybe it was Lem who pulled off his shirt and Hella who ran her hands over him. It was difficult to tell. His head spun.

 

“I’m getting mud on your shirt,” said Fero.

 

“Good point Fero,” said Hella, “Lem, you should take your shirt off too.”

 

Fero immediately set to work on Lem’s buttons, and Hella laughed. Fero could feel the vibrations of it along his spine.

 

“What about you, Hella,” said Lem, “Fero’s getting mud on your clothes too.”

 

“I can take off my own shirt,” said Hella.

 

“But it’ll be more fun if we do it for you,” said Fero.

 

He pressed a kiss to Lem’s chest, quickly getting distracted from his task. Lem didn’t seem to mind, gasping softly at the contact.

 

“Bed,” said Lem, sounding out of breath, “we should get in the bed.” 

 

Hella laughed, dragging Lem forward by his mostly-unbuttoned shirt towards the bed, kissing them both as they walked. The bed creaked as they flopped down, tangled together.

 

Hella pushed Lem’s shirt off his shoulders, trying to get it off him without stopping kissing him. Fero wasn’t really helping, continuing to kiss his way across Lem’s chest.

 

Lem sighed loudly. “We can’t really do much if you two won’t stop kissing me for a moment.”

 

Hella laughed again.

 

Fero finally broke away to say, “I see your point on the matter but I heartily disagree.”

 

Lem took the opportunity of their distraction to wriggled the rest of the way out of his shirt, moving to pull Hella’s off as well. Hella grabbed Lem, grinning as she kissed him. Fero basked for a moment in the warm press of their bodies around him. 

 

It was so good to have this again after he’d been so sure that it had slipped from his grasp. To never touch them again and, even worse, to never see them, to never hear their voices, well. Fero felt extremely thankful to whatever deity had arranged their reunion.

 

Hella reached across Fero, her hand pausing on it’s route to Lem to slide down Fero’s side. Fero gasped, and Hella chuckled. Fero put his hands over Hella’s on Lem’s hips, threading their fingers together. 

 

“Wait. Wait. I, uh. I want to hear about your trips. I want to know how Twinbrooke is doing, and the books you found. Catch me up on your month.”

 

“You want to do that  _ now _ ?” said Hella.

 

Her skin was flushed, her hair had started to come out of its coiled braid, and her lips were red from where he’d bitten them earlier. Lem looked no less inviting, chest glistening as he panted, looking from Hella to Fero.

 

“I mean, we don’t have to but I,” Fero looked down, drawing strength from the sight of their joined hands, “I missed hearing you guys talk about your days.”

 

Lem nodded, his eyes starting to light up. Hella rolled her eyes.

 

“May I go first?” Lem asked.

 

Hella nodded, moving back to let Lem up to retrieve his book. Fero admired the lines of Lem’s back as Lem bent to pick up his pack. Hella nudged him with her elbow.

 

“We could do month-sharing after, that’s all I’m saying,” said Hella.

 

Fero moved to sit between Hella’s spread legs, so that his bare back was touching her chest, keeping them both warm. He leant up to kiss Hella softly.

 

Hella sighed against him. “I suppose we’ve got time enough for that later.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “we’ve got time.”

 

Lem smiled at them as he settled opposite them on the bed. He opened the book, and began to read, a soothing stream of history and Lem’s own subjective interjections. He was about half-way through the book when he turned a page, and flushed a deep green. 

 

Hella blinked at the sudden pause. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I- It’s not important-. Don’t worry about it- ” Lem stuttered, flicking quickly to the next page.

 

Which,  _ obviously _ Fero was going to have to get to the bottom of this. He shot across the bed, plucking the book out of Lem’s hands.

 

“ _ Dear Hella,” _ Fero began, raising his eyebrows suddenly. 

 

Lem muttered a quick, “Oh no,” before Fero continued.

 

“Hush,” said Fero, “let me read this.” 

 

Lem nodded, looking ready to hide his face in his hands.

 

_ “Dear Hella,  _

 

_ I wish you had visited the underground library with me and Fantasmo. Fantasmo has read a  surprising number of books about the island that would become Ordena, and I think that would interest you greatly. (I also wish you were just here because you’re much less rude than Fantasmo is, but that’s beside the point here.)  _

 

_ I defied Fantamso and carried a chair. I know that doesn’t seem like much but you’re much more daring than I am. I hope Hadrian and Sabrina are well, I hope that you get to sharpen your blade. _

 

_ I miss you,  _

_ Lem King.” _

 

“You wrote to me?” Hella asked. 

 

Lem nodded, trying to hide behind Fero’s small body so that neither of them could see his blush.

 

Hella laughed delightedly. 

 

“It’s silly, I know. I just, I missed talking to you.” 

 

Lem spoke into Fero’s neck, still not willing to make eye contact with Hella. Fero shivered a little and Lem wrapped his arms around Fero out of reflex. Fero leant into the touch.

 

“No, it’s just...” Hella grinned shyly at them both. “I wrote you both letters too. They’re probably still packed somewhere.” 

 

“Oh,” said Fero.

 

“What did you write letters to us about?” said Lem.

 

Hella shrugged. “Sabrina told me a lot about the history of buildings, I thought you might like the information.”

 

“What about me!” Fero demanded.

 

Lem laughed and kissed the top of his head.

 

“Let me see...” said Hella thoughtfully, “I could tell you about how disgustingly in love Hadrian is with Sabrina?”

 

Fero wrinkled his nose. “I already know that.”

 

Hella hummed. “I could tell you about the diplomatic meeting, but it wasn’t very interesting.”

 

“Well I’m  _ sure _ that’s not true,” said Lem.

 

Hella was looking over to the corner of the room, face thoughtful, and Fero followed her gaze to where her sword leant up against the wall. Swords don’t have eyes, but Fero felt as though Hella’s sword demanded his attention for a moment. Even though he’d seen her leave it there many times, the sight of it now made something jolt in his chest as Hadrian’s words came back to him. 

 

He remembered Hella laying her sword at their feet, pledging it to them with the same quiver in her voice as his own voice had had when he’d asked for their names. Two different proposals with the same deep well of feelings beneath them.

 

“What about  _ you _ Fero,” said Hella, breaking through his thoughts, “what happened to  _ you _ on your trip? Besides collecting half the mud in Velas.”

 

“This mud is from Auniq actually,” said Fero.

 

“ _ Auniq _ !” said Lem and Hella.

 

Fero laughed. “Okay, so it was after you’d both left-”

 

Lem gave Fero’s shoulders a quick squeeze, and Hella darted forward, pressing a quick kiss to Fero’s lips.

 

“I- Okay, so,” said Fero, trying to find his place again, “I was flying around, looking for something to do until you guys got back-”

 

Lem kissed Fero’s neck and Fero gasped.

 

“Do you not want to hear the story?”

 

Lem released him, scooting back to sit next to Hella. She leant into Lem’s side.

 

“Okay,” said Fero, grinning as he began the story in earnest, “so there I am, flying around the city…”

 

He told them about the first ditch, maybe not skipping over what had distracted him quite as fast as he should have, and the long, cold travel to Auniq, and the longer, colder journey back again.

 

“Okay, so I’m in this ditch, my second ditch of the trip, and it’s  _ taller than me _ and I left my pack at the top of it, right? And I’m just like, I’ve made my peace with it. I’m in this ditch, because I’m thinking about how Hella’s hair looks when it’s down-” 

 

Hella laughed, flicking her hair over her shoulder so that it caught the light. Fero powered through his blush, and continuing to act out his brave attempt at climbing out of a ditch, standing on top of the bed and making dog noises for Kodiak.

 

Lem laughed from where he was laying, his head and a discarded shirt on top of Hella’s thighs, Hella slowly running her hands through his hair.

 

“And then I. Oh.” Fero stopped, looking outside the window.

 

“And then you?” Hella asked, yawning a bit.

 

”Oh,” said Fero, “It’s sunrise.” 

 

Lem blinked his heavy eyes open. “It sure is. Hey Fero, could you talk to Kodiak while you were also in dog form?”

 

Hella laughed, and Fero crawled forward to lie down next to them. 

 

“Well, that’s the weird thing, like I could understand him, I think. But it was really just the way you understand normal dog barks...”

 

Fero continued to talk until they all three fell asleep, feeling himself trail off mid-sentence but not really minding too much. He was glad to see the sun rise every morning with people he loved on either side of him, the mixture of the old armor and the new stories surrounding him.  Watching the sunrise with them was better than every sunrise he’d seen alone in the forests of Rosemerrow, but every one of those sunrises had led him to them. 

 

The past can be positive, sometimes, if it leads to a good present. 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr/twitter: madelinestarr | mariusperkins


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